Metamorphosis
by Wenont
Summary: In the 25th century, a hybridized killing machine who knows nothing else but to locate and destroy, realizes she is different from her kind. She enters an alien emotion filled world, one she is ill equipped to deal with. Nominated for the 2006 MEFAs.
1. Chapter 1

**A.N.:**There is a long history to this piece, and it was never my intention to post this on the Web. It was originally intended for the enjoyment of friends. Suffice to say, the outlines and story boards have languished in a box for several years.

There it all would have remained if not for KEEK. After much discussion and gnashing of teeth, on my part, she coaxed me into reawakening the muse that guards this piece. I give many kudos to KEEK for her offer to beta this piece and coaxing me to continue it. Which I shall do.

_All original characters are of my own twisted imagination. All Tolkien characters are just that, Tolkien's._

_Timeline: Begins 30 years before the actual War Of The Ring_

* * *

**I**

Her orders were clear. Find the hidden settlement and destroy it. Divest it of all living things, flora and fauna. It was a common order, one she had obeyed hundreds of thousands of times in her very long life. But somehow, this mission did not feel right. Something illogical had occurred in the programming she had recently undergone.

Leading her Troopers swiftly, silently and invisibly through the night, flashes of data streamed before her sensor arrays within her helm. Her infrared and heat seeking indicators told of living things ahead. Warm-blooded living things. She halted.

Her entire army was invisible to the naked eye and any sensing devices. The enemy could be looking right at them and they would be shrouded to their eyes. She and her cyborg comrades had a great military advantage by being genetically different from the rest of the human race. Their bodies were literal sensor arrays in and of themselves, impervious to the elements, requiring little food, drink or rest. Their hearing, eyesight and instinctive abilities far exceeded those of the lesser of the species and they could see and hear for a plethora of kilometers distant.

Their outer shell, their skin, was nearly impervious to penetrating weaponry, heat, or cold, and their clothing provided all elemental requirements for their kind, including armament, also impervious to nearly all modern weaponry, with the exception of ultrasonic blasts. Being exposed to such a device turned flesh to liquid and bone to dust even within their protective outerwear. Her lips twitched, the closest to a smile she could conjure. These primitives she now hunted had no such devices.  
Sending a small squad to take parameter readings farther ahead, she took this moment to review her tactical plans. An internal visor screen came up before her eyes and began to stream the information she had called up from her mental database. As her scouts relayed their findings to her in another section of the screen, she realized now why this settlement had been so difficult to find and how it was able to evade all of their probing devices for so long. They had somehow managed to devise a cloaking device. This was a dangerous sign as it meant that this subspecies was evolving. And much faster than her superiors initially had thought they would.

The cloak, while not as sophisticated as their own superior technology, would prove a bit difficult to break through. The only way to penetrate and destroy it was through the use of ultrasonic emitters. If this rebel cloak were able to have its vibrational emitters altered, to repel the particular signal that her units were using for its disruption, they themselves could be destroyed by their own weaponry as it bounced off the rebel deflectors.

She took more readings. The settlement appeared to be quite large, encompassing several hundred kilometers in a circular pattern. She fanned out her units and called in the coordinates for the Satellite Guided Ultrasonic Cannons (SGUC), as well as the vibratory signals the rebel device was currently emitting. She gave explicit instructions for the controller to be prepared to alter their own signals and drop a protective screen upon her own units, should the Rhee cloak repel their attempts to drop and destroy the cloaking device.

As the satellite began its change in trajectory in the skies far above, data began pouring into her visual arrays within her helm. As they did so, she was calculating furiously within her own computerized mind, all that was needed to glean success from this tenuous and nearly impossible mission. Her senses and instinct told her something was not right, but her logic stated that all was going as calculated.

At the moment this thought filtered into her mind, the warning count down from the satellite began ticking off in front of her. She notified her troops to take cover as best they could in the boulder strewn fields. They were rendered little protection from the hellatious device that was about to be unleashed but she had her orders. They were, after all, expendable. If her units failed, there would be others to take up where they left off. Logical.

Turning her attention back to the satellite's guidance system, an electronic voice hissed in a binary code, "T- minus 4...3...2...1..." then all hell broke loose.

A high pitched whine suddenly ramped up and screamed through the air, as a blinding blast of heat and light cracked out of the night sky, hitting the calculated target with a tremendous explosion. An arc of super heated air back drafted towards the waiting troops, causing nary a stir among them. For a moment there was silence and then all eyes watched as a shimmering bubble began to appear before them, where there were previously only grassy fields. A huge settlement began to appear, when the force field surrounding it began to melt away like molten glass.

She conveyed instructions to her Troopers to fire upon any and all creatures that would inevitably try to escape the firestorms, now forming within the epicenter of the township. No prisoners. No exceptions. Rhee laser cannons began firing blindly upon the Shock Troopers huddled at the settlement's perimeter, patiently waiting. Crack snipers quickly subdued the peripheral fire as the thousands of Troopers began to slowly tighten the noose around the city.

As expected, hundreds of the settlements' inhabitants began to flee the destruction mounting behind them. Periodically, bright flashes of light and flame would light up the darkened sky, as human bodies vaporized under a barrage of laser fire, coming from great gun ships positioned hundreds of kilometers above the stratosphere.

3170 surveyed the destruction calmly. All was going as planned. Naturally. She and her Troopers were perfection in all things. She began contacting the Guardians, relaying the fact that all was well when there was a sudden shift in the atmospheric pressure around the settlement. She snapped her gaze to the heavens in time to see a great ball of brilliant white light careening towards the very place where the settlement burned.

The ultrasonic cannons had malfunctioned. She dropped her gaze to the now charred and smoking remains of the settlement and was startled to see a sole human female staggering towards her. She raised her weapon and took aim. The female seemed to not take note of this action and simply held out a small creature in front of herself. The cyborg didn't move. The human croaked out something nearly unintelligible to 3170, and then thrust the creature towards the cyborg once more.

3170 lowered her weapon and cocked her head slightly at the two beings. Hearing a thunderous clap of sonic vibrations, the human hybrid did something she had never done before. She lowered her personal protective shield and took hold of the creature that was handed to her by the female. This woman's features were contorted in great pain, her eyes glazed over and bloodied. The cyborg noted that, as the human leaned forward, the skin and muscle of her entire back had been melted away, revealing bloodied bone and exposed organs to the cyborg's sight. Quickly taking the bundle from the female in one arm, 3170 raised her shield once more and slowly raised her weapon with the other. The being before her was in hellatious agony and the cyborg did the second most merciful thing she had ever done, besides taking the woman's bundle. She put the sub-human out of her misery. The body before her vaporized into a fine reddened mist, as the bundle in her arm began to squall loudly. It was then that 3170 realized what it was that she held. It was a youngling. A sub-human spawn.

Looking to the sky once more she realized that she and her units were doomed. Hurrying forward, 3170 clasped the child tightly to her chest, trying to take it to a somewhat sheltered place in a stone outcrop nearby. Just before she was able to reach the desired overhang, her sensor arrays warned her of a laser rifle ramping up and being aimed directly at her.

Turning swiftly and raising her own weapon, she stared down the barrel of one of her own. The other cyborg clicked out something to the effect of, "you are malfunctioning…" in their alpha-numeric language, just before pulling the trigger. He never got the opportunity to do so. Neither did she. A blue-white flash and blast of super heated air suddenly struck down everything in sight. 3170 felt her body lift from the ground and begin to overheat within her life support system. Her arrays went dark, as did her natural sight and then her mind snapped off like a light. And then there was…nothing.

* * *

In the muted glow of a mid-summer's sunrise, Elrond stood silently upon his chamber's balcony, calmly casting a languid gaze over the beauty that was Imladris. For close to three thousand years he had called this place home, having built it with the help of two of his dearest and closest friends, Erestor and Glorfindel. He drew in a deep breath, closing his eyes. Scouts had brought black and fell news the last few days. The power of the Dark Lord was rising. Soon, he knew, the unsettled peace in Middle-earth would end and his people's time would draw to an end. Slowly, he opened his gray eyes and sighed. How had it come to this? He shook his head, closing his eyes once more and pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

He snapped his head up suddenly and peered out over the gardens and fields, not believing what he was seeing. A darkening of the skies and a deep, low rumbling descended upon the hidden valley. Before he could react in any way, a shimmering wall of wavering opaqueness hung in the air before him, and the Elf could just make out forms moving frantically about on the other side. He blinked, trying to make sense of what he beheld.

As the images came into focus he gazed in near horror at the sight that now met his eyes. A great blinding light nearly singed his vision and a thunderous roar filled his sensitive ears to nearly deafness. Whomever or whatever was coming through this anomaly was not going to do it with gentleness, he thought, trying to shake the ringing in his ears and blinking the bright bursts of light from his eyes.

With a tremendous flash of light, the scene changed drastically before him. The usually green and tranquil fields and gardens surrounding the Last Homely House were now smoking, cratered wastelands, strewn with the dead, dying and wounded of some battle of an unknown time and place. The Elf's hair was blown across and around his head and face, his raiments billowed around his tall lithe form, and the torch lamps within his chambers flickered low to near extinguishment, as a fierce wind howled through the structure. The roar and great blast of air that followed in the beings' wake swiftly quelled and then all returned to stillness.

Elrond drew the hair from his eyes and smoothed his clothing, then took several deep breaths and surveyed the scene below him in astonishment. Gandalf came running to stand by the Elda, his mouth agape at the destruction he beheld.

"What devilry of Mordor is this?" voiced Elrond lowly, as he surveyed the carnage.

"I know not, Elrond," replied the Maia, hastily making his way to the fields below, following the Elf-lord.

"Summon the healers! All of them! Now!" barked Elrond to his assistants, as he ran then knelt amongst the fallen.

The creatures looked more akin to giant insects than human or elf kind. They were much too large to be dwarves, having not a strand of hair visible upon their bodies, and had a silvery skin that shimmered in the pale flicker of the newly rising sun. There were no faces visible, only great dark reflective masks of some sort covering their heads and facial features. Not an inch of flesh was visible anywhere along the long frames of the beings lying prone and broken before him. Elrond's sons, Elladan and Elrohir, soon joined the two ancients moving among the bodies.

Elrohir bent over one of the bodies, examining the strange helmet. He ran his long slender fingers around the neck area, just below the edge of the helm when a soft, audible click sounded just under his fingers. He pulled his hand back instinctively and called his brother over.

Elladan peered over his brother's shoulder and whispered, "How does one remove such a device?"

"I know not, but let us discover together."

Elrohir gingerly grasped the helm on either side, gently moving it side-to-side, trying to figure out how to remove it. Quite by accident, as the Elf turned it to the left, the helm gave way slightly and a low hiss emanated from within. As soon as the helmet separated from the neck a retched stench billowed forth, sending both brothers reeling backwards. Elrohir instinctively dropped the helm as a putrid smelling and thick dark liquid began pouring forth from both the helm and the body suit, which, upon being separated from its helm, immediately deflated flat to the ground.

"Elbereth!" croaked Elladan, as he and Elrohir held corners of their tunics to cover their nose and mouth.

A short distance away, Elrond and Gandalf were discovering the same fate with the other bodies strewn about. As he turned another body over, Elrond's keen ears picked up the muffled sounds of whimpering. He knitted his brow and looked over his shoulder toward the Homely House. Raising his brows questioningly, he stood and turned his head in the direction of the nearly imperceptible sounds.

About two furlongs distance from the body-strewn battlefield lay yet another prone form, crumpled face first against the base of the Homely House's massive staircase. Cautiously, he slowly strode toward the figure, and then picked up his pace when the muffled cries became more urgent. As he neared the fallen creature he realized the source of the mewling. A babe.

Kneeling by the body, he gently rolled the creature over onto its back, feeling solidness and heft where there was none with the others of its race. This one still held form. As the body gave way, a small bundle was clasped tightly to the being's chest, nearly in a death grip. It took Elrond considerable strength to pry the squalling infant from the enfolded rock solid arms of the creature.

Drawing back the silky fabric swaddling the infant's head, two bright blue eyes peered up widely at the Elda, and the child immediately ceased its fussing. Elrond gently caressed a peach fuzzed cheek with the back of a finger.

"Sweet Eru…" he whispered, as the child softly cooed in his arms, grasping for the Elda's forefinger and then held on tightly once the babe captured it.

As he examined the child further, a deep rumbling rocked the grounds and Elrond heard his sons cry out a warning to the healers wandering among the fallen. All the Elves began running for cover, as a tremendous earthquake-like tremor rolled beneath their feet. With a deafening thunder-like clap, the fields of death wavered and rolled slightly, as if waves on a storm-tossed sea, and then vanished before dozens of unbelieving eyes. The crater-scarred landscape gave way to peaceful flower-filled gardens and grassy carpeted lawns, giving no hint of the savagery that had occupied it moments before. All was tranquil once more in the hidden valley.

Elrond, clutching the babe to his chest, looked up with total shock and bewilderment, seeing thousands of dead littering his lands one moment and not a trace of the destruction in another. In his wonderment, he momentarily forgot the prone figure at his feet until Elrohir asked about its condition.

"Valar! I have not yet examined the creature!" exclaimed Elrond, handing the now sleeping babe to his son, and then kneeling by the being's side.

Finding the helm's release, he slid the mechanism over and was rewarded with a soft hiss, as the helmet disengaged from the neck piece. A slight hum was heard, and subtle vibration was felt; something that was not heard or felt when the helms of the others of its kind were released. Additionally, previously hidden seams, running the length of the body suit and under the arms, mysteriously appeared. Both Elves raised their brows questioningly. They were thankful, at least, that there was a whole body in this one. As he removed the head gear, the porcelain facial features of what appeared to be a female, were revealed. She had short cropped jet black hair and high chiseled cheekbones. Her facial features were sharp and strong. Father and son glanced at each other momentarily and Elrond looked over his shoulder at Elladan, now making his way toward them.

He looked back at Elrohir then down at the woman. "She still draws breath, Elrohir. Bring her to the healing halls. I shall follow presently."

Elrohir nodded and then took the mortal up in his arms and hurried up the stair case. He strode with intent into the Homely House and down the immaculate halls until he came to a set of great doors. Kicking them open, he found an empty cot and lay the mortal upon it. Seeing that there were no healers available, as all were still out milling about in a quandary, the Elf began to tend to the woman himself.

He heated a vessel of water upon the hearth, dropping various herbs and linen bandages within and then returned to the mortal, removing her strange clothing with some effort. Surprisingly, there was no damage to her outerwear. He had to figure out how the suit came off and knew it had something to do with the seams that had appeared. He found little metal tabs at each end of the seams and grasped one. He tugged gently upon it and was pleasantly surprised to be able to draw it smoothly down the length of one side of her body, and repeated the process on the other side then under each arm.

As soon as he had drawn away her garment from her torso, he gasped. Her chest, shoulders and arms were beet red and blistered, as if she had been exposed to the fires of Mount Doom.

"Eru…" he breathed, as he gingerly removed the rest of the raiment past her hips and down her legs to her booted feet. Modesty was the last thing on his mind as he continued to uncover angry red patches of singed flesh, some heavily oozing blood and clear fluid in places, until she lay bare before him. As he worked, he took note of her unusual physique, as she appeared quite muscular and well-formed for a mortal female. Her bone structure was unusually robust and her frame was solid and sturdy. If he did not know she was a child of Man, he would have mistaken her for one of his kin. Highly unusual traits for a mortal, male or female.

He cleaned as much blood from her torso and limbs as possible, and placed temporary bandages upon the worst of the wounds, before covering her to the neck with blankets. As the water heated, he then began replacing the temporary ones with herb soaked strips while some of the healers began to enter the halls.

"I shall take over from here, m'lord," whispered a petite elleth, who took the bandages from the Elf-lord's hands and began to tend to the mortal.

"You will inform Lord Elrond, Lord Elladan or myself of her progress?" directed Elrohir with concern.

"Assuredly, Lord Elrohir. I promise," replied the elf maiden, who had begun to clean some of the woman's wounds as she spoke.

The warrior nodded in appreciation and returned to the fields below to aid his father if needed.


	2. Chapter 2

Elrohir met his father and brother as he made his way back down the hall. Elrond held the infant in his arms and was in conversation with Elladan. As he approached his kin, his father looked up at him saying, "I must tend to the babe. I shall join you both presently in my study." 

Both nodded and made their way back down the hall.

Elrond hurried into the Healing Halls, stopping momentarily to speak with the healer who had tended to the strange mortal.

"She has not awakened as of yet, m'lord. I have changed her bandages once this eve and she still slumbers." She looked away, something else obviously on her mind that she appeared unsure of speaking.

"What troubles you, Caladwen?" asked Elrond gently, trying to coax the elleth into speaking.

She hesitated for a moment. "Tis most unheard of, m'lord…" she bit her lip, unsure if she should continue.

"Of what do you speak, young one?" asked Elrond, curling his fingers under her chin and tilting her head up slightly to gaze into her eyes.

"There was no need to replace the bandages, m'lord. Her wounds have healed, as if she suffered naught…"

Elrond's brows rose in disbelief. "Of this you are quite certain?"

The elleth nodded and shrugged slightly. The Elf-lord handed the child to the healer and strode over to the mortal's bed. Elrohir had told him of terrible open and oozing wounds scattered all over her body. When he lifted the coverings from her prone form, only smooth and unblemished flesh met his eyes. It could not have been more than two hours since her violent arrival, and she had been brought into these halls. He shook his head, closing his eyes and sighed. This creature was creating more questions the longer she remained in his care.

"Please fetch Elrohir, Caladwen, if you would."

"Yes m'lord."

"What of the babe, Master Elrond?" asked the healer, holding up the child in her arms.

"Ai'. I shall take it," he voiced softly, extending his arms and accepting the infant from the elleth.

"It seems healthy enough, m'lord."

"Yes, considering what it has been through, it is a miracle that it still draws breath," replied the Elf-lord over his shoulder. The healer then took her leave, as he moved across the room to a dressing table and changed the infant; discovering that it was a male child in the process. He chuckled softly as he moved to a cradle and laid the babe within, pulling a blanket over its squirming form.

As the child kicked its chubby legs and flailed its tiny arms and hands in the air, Elrond reached down and brushed a curled lock of deep brown hair from its forehead.

"And what shall we do with you, little one," he whispered to himself, as he gazed down at the tiny form peering wonderingly up at him, now cooing softly. He took in a shallow breath, letting it out slowly as he took a seat beside the infant's cradle, gazing out the window and out over the now tranquil grounds. He remained lost in thought until Elrohir's presence brought him around.

"You summoned me, father?"

Elrond looked up at his son, then over to the unconscious woman.

"Yes, I did. If you would, please, observe the mortal's condition and tell me what you behold," voiced Elrond, gesturing in the direction of the mortal's bed.

Elrohir threw a questioning gaze at the Elf-lord and then did as he was bid. As he leant over the woman, he glanced back at his father who raised a brow, tilted his head slightly and gestured subtly once more in the mortal's direction. Elrohir turned back to the woman, drew back the coverings and gasped in disbelief.

"This is not possible! She was singed over nigh her entire body, open wounds all about, not more than an hour ere!"

"Yes. So you told me. I am at a loss to explain how such could come to pass. I have never witnessed such powers of healing among the race of Man."

Elrohir shook his head in bewildered numbness and came to sit by his father's side. He focused his gaze upon the now sleeping babe as he said, "Are we even certain that she is mortal?"

Elrond was sitting against the cushioned chair back, his fingers squeezing the bridge of his nose, his eyes tightly closed.

"At this point in time, I do not believe that we can be certain of anything that has to do with this creature, my son. Mayhap, more answers shall reveal themselves when she awakens."

He gazed at the woman for a moment and then looked back at his son in exasperation.

"Then again, there very well may be many more questions than answers revealed when that time approaches," he quipped, standing and smoothing his robes.

Elrohir nodded in agreement and followed his father out of the healing chambers.

Later that evening, after a rare evening meal, Elrond and his sons were in the Elf-lord's study, relaxing with a goblet of wine and pondering the events of the day. The twins were in quiet conversation with each other and he, rested his chin upon vaulted fingers as he thought, when Gandalf entered the chambers, a beleaguered look upon his face.

"What has you so flustered, Gandalf?" asked Elrond, gesturing for him to take a seat and handing him a goblet.

Gandalf humphed, took the offering, and dropped heavily into a nearby stuffed chair across from the Elda.

"What? What. The remnants of a great battle have been cast upon your doorstep and then, just as swiftly swept away, and you ask me what has me so flustered? Valar…" grumped the Maia, rolling his eyes and drinking deeply from his goblet, as Elladan and Elrohir chuckled silently to themselves.

"I have spent the better part of this eve pondering this day's happenings, pouring over reams of ancient parchments and visiting this strange mortal among us, trying to make some sense of things." He shook his head.

"And what have you discovered, Mithrandir?" asked Elladan, bemused.

Gandalf shot the younger elf a withering glare.

"Nothing!" he bellowed in frustration.

The three Eldar stifled laughs as the wizard drained his goblet, and reached for the wine bottle, sitting upon a table between the Elves and himself.

The Maia took a sip of his wine saying," Naught of this kind has ever transpired in Middle-earth, as far as can be told. At least, as far as the written histories can be ascertained." His gaze took on a far away look as he slowly sipped again.

All fell back into quiet respite before the stillness was suddenly breeched by Gandalf's deep voice.

"I had felt the energy shift, Elrond, as the canopy of stars opened and this creature and comrades in arms passed through the Veil of Ilúvatar…"

All ears were now focused upon the Istar as he spoke and no one interrupted.

"I have felt such once ere…" he paused, as if to gather long forgotten memories.

"…Ere the Waters of Awakening…" he continued, raising his eyes to gaze at Elrond intently.

"…Ere I was granted such form as I now hold…"

The wizard dropped his gaze to his goblet which he was absently swirling and fell silent. After a few moments Elrond spoke.

"Of what time do you speak, my friend?"

Silence reined once more as the three Eldar sat patiently at the edge of their seats. What the Maia was telling them was a part of history that had never been revealed to the Children of Arda.

"At the time of the Breaking of the Song…When Melkor was banished through the Veil of Stars, by Ilúvatar's own hand. Never again to share in the Song of the Making."

The twins and Elrond gaped at the elder.

"Surely there are records of such in Erestor's archives?" asked Elrohir, who was rewarded with a most scathing glare from the wizard.

"I should say there are not!" boomed the Maia, snorting in indignation.

"Even the Valar do not desire to put forth such sordid details of their failings!" he huffed, and began mumbling incoherently as he pulled out his pipe, filled it and lit it; all to the Elves' displeasure. However, they chose to ignore the slight discomfort as this conversation was worthy of their undivided attention.

"As it is, I have spoken too much! Eru forgive my weakness for the gift of prattle!" he muttered, blowing out a perfect smoke ring.

"Well, my old friend, what do you advise we do with this…this mortal, I suppose we call her…"

Gandalf popped the pipe from his mouth and gazed steadily at the Elda. "Seeing that the last time the Veil was lifted was due to fell tidings, I would suggest that this being be held under heavy guard and considered foe, until we can construe, or be convinced, otherwise…"

Elrond knitted his brow, a frown appearing upon his lips. "Tis not my heart's desire, but mayhap twould be the best course to take, under the circumstances." He glanced at the twins; both nodding in agreement."

"Very well. A double guard shall be posted to her section of the halls." He glanced at Elrohir who bowed slightly, and took his leave to set the guard in place.

"Elladan, while we are on the subject of friend and foe, please bring forth that which you recovered from the field of battle."

Gandalf gave the Elf-lord a quizzical glance. Elrond merely smiled and said, "It may prove most interesting..."

Elladan ducked out of the room, returning several moments later with an odd looking bundle in his hands.

Elrond gestured for him to place it upon the table between them and to unwrap it. Gandalf's eyes widened in shock and bewilderment as he beheld the strange object laid out before him.

"What, in Arda, is it?" breathed the elder, running a gnarled hand over the smooth metal.

"I would believe it to be a weapon of some sort," replied the Elf-lord, glancing at his son.

"And with the countless numbers of dead, you only found one?" asked the Maia, gingerly taking the object into his hands. Both Elrond and Elladan instinctively stepped back a few paces, eyeing the wizard warily.  
"No. We only were able to grasp this one before all vanished. There were thousands of such devices strewn about…er…" Elladan glanced nervously at his father.

"Is it wise to touch such a device, Mithrandir…ah…seeing as we know naught of its workings?" asked Elladan, moving yet another step back and away from the long end of the contraption, now pointing directly at him.

"Nonsense! It appears harmless enough!" quipped Gandalf, as he moved toward the window to get a better look at it in the very bright moonlight.

As the silvery shards of Ithil's light fell upon its gray metallic skin, the device began to hum and vibrate gently in the Maia's hands, clicking softly as a faint blue-white glow emanated from it.

"By the Valar!" cried Gandalf, swiftly tossing the weapon onto the chaise, causing the two Elves to jump back and take cover behind the great oaken doors of the study, soon to be joined by the wizard.

"Harmless…" quipped Elrond, cautiously coming from behind the door. The device was humming happily, a shard of moonlight still caressing its frame. Elrond quickly pulled the object from the chaise and laid it in the shadows of a nearby chair, away from the window. It continued to glow faintly and hum softly for a time, but eventually ceased these effects.

"I would suggest that this be brought to the armory, and cloistered within the depths of the deepest chest that can be found. Twould seem that our prisoner…" Elrond said the word with a grimace. "…Will have many questions to answer, provided she awakens."

Both nodded in agreement with the Elf-lord, all casting a last worried glance at the bothersome machination, before Elladan rewrapped it and removed it to the armory for safe keeping. Or, as he secretly harbored in thought, out of the hands of the wizard.

Caladwen entered the healing halls to tend to her only patient. And the most intriguing one she had ever cared for in all the hundreds of years in her profession. In actuality, there was really little she could do for the stranger, truth be told. There were no outward wounds to tend, and she had no way of knowing if she had sustained internal damage of any kind. There was no visible swelling or bruising, indicative of internal injuries or bleeding.

Her flesh appeared unblemished, cream colored, hairless, except for her head, and clear. Quite frankly, elf-like, if she were pressed to describe her charge. The condition of the mortal's outward appearance baffled her, seeing that the woman was clearly a warrior, having engaged in a horrendous battle, to hear Elrohir tell it. And the bodies! Or, what remained of them. She shivered at the thought of the liquefied and putrid remains pouring forth from the strange suits. The Valar's mercy. That was all she could attribute this woman's survival to, and that of the infant.

So caught up in her thoughts, Caladwen did not immediately take note of the fact that her charge had opened her eyes and was staring right at her.

"By the light of Elbereth!" cried the elleth, holding her hand to her chest and back peddling. So loud was her cry that it brought all four guards running to her side, swords drawn.

"What troubles you, Caladwen? Have you been attacked?" asked Captain Urúvion, glaring menacingly at the creature lying motionless upon the bed. His demeanor softened as he moved closer to the mortal. He passed a hand over the woman's eyes and got no response.

"She is either blind or not fully awake, Caladwen," voiced Captain Urúvion, sheathing his sword, followed by his men.

"I was startled, that is all. Forgive my giddiness, Captain. I feel so foolish."

"Nonsense! This is what we are here for. There is naught to forgive, Caladwen," he said, glancing once more to the human. Her eyes were still open and unblinking.

"Is she not dead, mayhap?" asked one of the guards, passing his hand over her eyes.

"I do not think so, Dûrion. Though, I have not seen her eyes opened since she had been brought here by Lord Elrohir."

"Very strange for a mortal. That is for certain," huffed the captain, as he signaled for his men to follow him back out in to the hall.

"We take our leave, Caladwen. Do not hesitate to summon us if trouble arises. Dûrion and Voronwë will be right inside the doors."

"Thank you, Captain Urúvion. I shall, but I do not foresee any problems."

"By your leave…" Captain Urúvion bowed slightly, glancing once more at the human and then strode toward the doors of the healing chambers, followed by the three other guards.

"Oh, Captain,"

"Urúvion stopped in mid step and turned back to the healer. "M'lady?"

"If you would, could you please send word to Master Elrond that the mortal has awakened?"

"As you wish."

"Thank you, Captain," called Caladwen, as she turned back to her charge, concern clouding her features.

From the outer planes of nothingness, 3170's mind suddenly reengaged. The cyborg became aware of her surroundings, more in perception than physically. She felt her eyes open but saw nothing. Instinctively her body began running system diagnostics, streaming data stored from the moment that she was cast into oblivion to the moment she regained sensory perception. Information regarding her surfical damage passed through her mind, and then her current vitals and data on the condition of her internal systems, were loaded into her internal sensory arrays.

She could feel electrical charges intermittently arcing throughout her nervous system, indicating that she had electrically shorted out in a sense. She had no muscular control of her body and was suspended in a regenerative stasis. Much of her body fluids had congealed, due to the ultrasonic pulses from the sonic bursts, but not to the point where the nanobots could not function and begin their repair cycles. Her major senses were the first systems that began coming on line, and she was able to hear muffled voices as well as see shades of gray.

Her extrasensory systems were not yet functioning at even the most basic of levels, indicating that her regeneration processes were not functioning as strongly as they should be. Her lower brain logically stated that it most likely was due to the dark hours, while her higher sensor arrays indicated just the opposite to be true. She felt the presence of light nearby, yet she was out of its direct reach. Unable to move her limbs anatomically, 3170 switched her biomass to comply with the commands of her elctrogenetic system, instead of her neuromotor and muscular systems.

Though technically blind, the cyborg was able to sense that several spectrums of light were very close by. As well as something else. Sending out echo location and heat seeking pulses, 3170 was able to determine that another life form was very close to her; two more being positioned farther away. She waited in stasis, not wanting to risk an enemy attack in her vulnerable condition. She resorted to a rather primitive action. She played dead.

Soon, the being in question left the area and 3170 slowly began to rise from the bed, into a sitting position. Remaining stock still, again, she sent out sonar and infrared scans. The area was clear. The two other life forms were of no consequence. They were not within her immediate vicinity. Slowly she rose from the bed, her feet placed firmly beneath her. The electrogenetics kicked on and her legs began moving toward the open window to her left. She still had no biological feeling in her limbs and torso but her alternative systems and subsystems were working perfectly, moving her to her sought out destination.

As soon as she was positioned within the streaming shards of sunlight, the microphoto receptors, scattered throughout the surface of her skin, began generating the needed energy for her to regenerate. But this still was not sufficient. Her entire body needed to be in the light stream. Raising a hand, 3170 began running it over the sill and frame of the window, seeking an opening large enough for her to pass through. This window appeared to be large enough for such action, but what lay on the other side?

Probing with her sonar-like sensors, she found that there was no platform on the other side of this opening. She turned, carpeting the walls, floor and ceiling with scanning pulses, looking for an opening to full sunlight and a solid platform of some kind to walk out to. Readings began streaming in as soon as she faced the far wall, directly across from the chamber's entrance. A clear quintessence lined this wall in places. A few more pings...Ah. The chemical make up indicated that the material was of an inorganic nature, a primitive form of glass imbedded within an organic substance. Wood. Vast amounts of sunlight flooded through the structures.

She moved towards the doors, arms outstretched. She could feel the heat of the light source through the panes. She found the latch by its magnetic field, though she could not physically feel it in her palm. Turning the latch downward, the double doors gave way, and through the dropping of the surrounding air pressure, she felt them swing open away from her. She tentatively placed a foot past the threshold and found solidness beneath it. The pressure of the stone against the balls of her feet told her that she was safe to continue further out onto the platform.

Again, as soon as the sunlight touched her flesh, she could feel the tissue, deep cell structure, and bone begin to mend. All of her primary sensory arrays remained alert, in case danger was lurking nearby, as she crouched down and lay out prone upon the stone decking of the balcony. She immediately entered a regenerative stasis, bathed in brilliant light, her eyes remaining open all the while. Gradually, as her anatomical systems grew stronger, a bioelectric field began to form around the cyborg as her body regenerated, protecting her from any outside forces. 3170's eyes finally slipped shut and she was oblivious to the outside world once more.


	3. Chapter 3

Several hours later, Caladwen again entered the healing chambers accompanied by Master Elrond. Both stared in disbelief at the empty bed. Elrond summoned the guards and gave them a scathing dressing down, believing that their charge had escaped. 

"Truly, Lord Elrond, she has not left these chambers. Leastwise, past us. We have heard naught either," voiced Captain Urúvion in his and his guards' defense.

"Search the grounds, Captain. Take Alagos with you and summon the rest of your unit to assist," snapped the Elf-lord, his voice direct and commanding. He stood tall and rigid, a fist curled upon his hip.

Urúvion bowed and hurried from the chambers accompanied by his second. Elrond turned to the other two warriors.

"Dûrion, Voronwë, search the healing chambers. All of them. She could not have gotten far in her condition," he continued.

Both bowed and went about their bidden tasks, as Caladwen drew in a deep breath. Elrond turned his attention back to the healer.

"Honestly, Master Elrond, the human was unmoving, eyes wide and unblinking upon my leave. I cannot fathom for the life of me how she rose of her own accord. Her sudden absence troubles me."

Elrond took her hand and patted it comfortingly. "Do not worry yourself, Caladwen. She will be found, that is assured." He gently squeezed her hand and released it.

"I pray," she replied apprehensively. A slight breeze coming from an unexpected direction caught her attention. She glanced at the Elf-lord who had moved from her side. He was occupied with the infant on the other side of the room.

The healer moved towards the slightly open balcony door, stopping suddenly. She bit her lip anxiously, as a tingle crawled up her spine, and was barely able to sense a strange but familiar presence. Knowing it to be her patient, Caladwen noted that it was greatly muted, and she was not able to feel the woman's essence as strongly.

"Master Elrond!" she whispered sharply.

Finishing with the child and placing it back in its cradle, he silently strode to her side, placing a hand upon her arm.

"She lies without, m'lord." She voiced lowly.

"Yes. I feel a strange presence. Remain here, Caladwen, until I call for you." His brow creased in concern and a muscle twitched in his jaw as he contemplated his next actions.

She nodded as the Elf-lord cautiously approached the doors and pushed one open slightly. The bare and prone form of the injured mortal met his eyes.

"Sweet Eru! Caladwen! Come quickly, and bring linens!" he called as he knelt by the woman's side. He moved to place his hand upon the mortal's brow but was unable to reach her flesh. An invisible barrier prevented him from touching her, or moving closer to her, his hand was left floating nearly a foot above her head.

He turned, hearing a sharp gasp from the healer. "M'lord! Is she…"

"No, m'lady. As far as I can ascertain she still draws breath, though appears to be in a…" he paused and looked her over, trying to ascertain a way to describe her condition. Deciding on a biological course he continued, "…A stasis of some kind. I am unable to touch her, as a hidden shroud envelopes her form."

"She cannot lay in this immodest state, m'lord. Mayhap, I can render assistance?"

Elrond rose to his feet and gazed softly at the petite healer. "Perhaps your presence is more familiar to her. Mayhap you will succeed where I have failed. Please…"

Elrond gestured for Caladwen to move to the woman's side. The healer knelt by the mortal and placed her hand above the creature's brow. The same fate met her hand as that of Elrond, and she could only venture within several feet of the mortal.

3170 felt a familiar presence nearby and recognized it as the life form that had hovered about her earlier. The cyborg realized that this being most likely was tending to her condition and posed little threat. She relayed this information to the bioelectric field which immediately lowered, allowing the elleth to place the bed linens upon her naked form. The day's sunlight was fading, so there would be little for the photoreceptors to do, until moonrise.

Caladwen lurched forward slightly as the invisible barrier suddenly dissipated, and caught herself quickly.

"By the Valar…" whispered the Elf-lord as he beheld the wonder before him. "She has recognized me, m'lord. As you had suspected she might."

"Eru be praised. Continue tending to her needs, Caladwen. I shall summon the guards to stand down. This is quite the quandary, her able to move about and sense one's presence, and in such a condition…"

He turned to leave, shaking his head as he went. Caladwen smiled, content that her charge was none the worse for wear after her little journey. She chuckled slightly as she tucked the bedding around the woman's form. As she was doing so, she realized that she could no longer feel the cool summer breeze upon her cheeks, and felt the hairs on her arms and the back of her neck rise.

Gasping softly, she realized that she was now enveloped in the same invisible shroud that had encased the mortal earlier. She grew frightened, not knowing what would become of her and unsure if she could breathe within such confinement. Sensing the being's fear, 3170 reached out to the elleth, now having regained a sufficient level of tactile function and muscular control.

To Caladwen's surprise, the mortal's hand found hers and squeezed it gently in reassurance, a strange voice of sorts calling to her in an unknown language. The mortal's eyes remained closed as the sounds flooded the elleth's mind. Whatever the woman was trying to convey to the Elf calmed her considerably, and Caladwen knew that she was safe and would be unharmed.

Elrond soon returned with his sons and together they made their way to the balcony. All three stood gazing in wonder at the two females before them. Caladwen was seated, back against the balcony's railing, legs curled beneath her, her head resting against one of the stone balusters, cradling the mortal's head and shoulders in her lap, the mortal laying motionless in her arms.

Caladwen?" whispered Elrond.

The elleth stirred and focused her sight upon the three Elf lords standing before her.

"M'lord?" Her voice was echoed from beneath the shroud.

"You are well?"

"Yes, quite well."

"What has happened, Caladwen? Why does your voice sound so…strange?"

"I have been taken into the shroud, Master Elrond, but do not worry. I am safe and unharmed." She dropped her gaze to the cyborg, smiling softly.

"We have come to move her back to her bed, m'lady," voiced Elladan, glancing questioningly at his father.

"She cannot be moved as of yet, m'lord."

Elrond's brow rose in confusion. "And why is this?"

Caladwen met the ancient healer's gaze.

"She is healing, Master Elrond. It appears that she requires the light of Anor and Ithil to do so."

"Verily? And how do you know this to be true?" asked the Lord of Imladris as he came to kneel by their sides.

"She has told me so…"

Elrohir and Elladan, flanking their father, raised their brows in surprise.

"She has spoken? You can understand her?" asked the Elf-lord in disbelief.

Caladwen giggled and shook her head, the sound of her giggles echoing strangely behind the veil.

"Oh no m'lord. She did not speak. I saw visions in my mind. Through such images she showed me how she arrived here and why. I heard only much buzzing and hissing as one would from insects or an asp."

"Eru…" whispered Elrond, glancing worriedly at his sons. They appeared as concerned as he did.

"If this be the case, we should make her as comfortable as possible, I should think. Stone is hardly the most comforting thing to lie upon," voiced Elrohir, gazing at the two women.

"Will she allow us to do such for her, Caladwen? Are you able to convey such to her?"

Caladwen thought for a moment before replying. So far, the mortal was able to convey her thoughts in images to her. She had not, as of yet, tried to reciprocate the communications, such as they were.

"I am not certain, my Lord. I have not tried to reply back to her as of yet. Nor am I certain if I am able."

"Please, try, and I shall aid in the task if I am able." She nodded.

Elrond closed his eyes and attempted to reach out to Caladwen's mind with his, but was prevented from doing so by the protective veil surrounding the two women.

He opened his eyes and sighed in exasperation. "I cannot aid in this task, Caladwen, for the veil prevents me from reaching out to you. You must attempt such by your own hand, I am afraid," he voiced lowly.

She took in a shallow breath replying, "I shall try, m'lord."

Where to start? She thought about how her parents would communicate to her when she was still an infant, not yet able to speak. They had done similar as this creature she recalled…

Closing her eyes, focusing her thoughts and glancing at the cot across from the balcony, she conjured up the image of a bed in her mind, and the image of the mortal being placed upon it, while still on the balcony. Several long moments passed with all waiting in expectation for any sign that the mortal understood Caladwen's efforts. The Elf appeared wearied by her ministrations and leaned back against the stone balusters, closing her eyes.

"Are you well, Caladwen?" asked Elrond softly and in concern.

He was rewarded by the slight nod of the healer's head. The Elf-lord breathed a sigh of relief as both his sons did the same.

The elleth was the first to know something had gotten through to the woman, as 3170 squeezed her hand lightly in understanding. She felt the veil suddenly drop around her, and signaled to the lords that the bed should be brought out. The twins immediately ducked back into the chamber and returned with the cot. Lifting the woman from the cold stone, they placed her upon it.

All of their attention was shifted to the squalls of the babe on the other side of the chamber. Elrond looked to Elladan, who immediately went to the child's aid. Elrohir snorted in laughter to see his brother gather up the tiny bundle against his broad chest, it being fully hidden behind his muscular forearms.

"He shall make a good father, someday," quipped Elrohir to his father under his breath. Elladan shot his brother an admonishing glance, as he changed the babe. Elrond chuckled. If either of his sons married, both would be wonderful parents, this he knew.

He turned his attention back to the two women and sensed that the veil had not been replaced about them. He tilted his head slightly in curiosity, brow raised.

Caladwen caught the Elf-lord's eye and replied, "It appears that she trust us, m'lord."

Just as the words left her lips, Captain Urúvion and Alagos entered the chambers and strode toward the balcony. In a matter of seconds, both elleth and cyborg were once again enveloped in the mortal's protective shroud.

"My Lord, she senses them as a threat. More than likely she discerns that they carry weapons. Please, have them both remove their bows and blades," Caladwen's echoing voice floated through the cool summer air.

Captain Urúvion and his second gazed questioningly at their Lord who motioned for them to do as the healer had bidden.

"Are you certain, My Lord?" questioned the Captain, gazing warily at the mortal lying prone before him.

"Quite, Urúvion. She poses no threat to any of us. Remove your weaponry."

"By your command, my Lord," replied the Captain, who began to undo his scabbard. His underling following suit. "Lay them at the far side of the chamber if you will, Captain Urúvion," requested Elrond, as he turned his attention back to the two women.

Urúvion returned to stand beside Elrohir and Elrond, his second flanking the younger Elf. "Er…Caladwen, m'lady…your voice…it is er…sounding strangely…" voiced the Captain, shifting his weight uncomfortably.

Echoing giggles sounded throughout the chambers. "Yes, I suppose it does. I am behind a shrouded veil, Captain. This woman has a gift for such self-protection. None can reach us."

The Elf Captain shot a bewildered glance at Elrond who merely gestured at the two and said, "Please, see for yourself, Urúvion. You will not be able to touch either unless the mortal so wishes…"

Hesitating for a moment, the warrior cautiously stepped forward and knelt beside the cot. He reached out to touch Caladwen's arm but was prevented from doing so. He instinctively pulled his hand back as if burned.

"What devilry is this, my Lord! Surely it is the work of Sauron's minions!"

Elrond chuckled. "No, Urúvion. Nothing of the sort. It would seem that she is quite unique to her race. We shall just have to wait to see what other strange happenings transpire, once she reaches consciousness. Even in this state, she and Caladwen are able to communicate through images in each other's minds."

"Eru…" Captain Urúvion rose, clearing his throat and glanced up at Alagos who was staring in bewilderment, no doubt pondering what he had just beheld.

"I take it that you will not require our assistance any longer, my Lord?" questioned the Captain, throwing a last glance at the two women.

Elrond followed his gaze, taking note that Caladwen was now making her way toward the four Elves. Apparently, the veil had dropped once the guards were disarmed.

The Elf-lord moved slightly closer to the Captain, speaking in a low voice so as not to be heard by Caladwen. "Not fully. You and your second shall remain outside the chamber doors until I deem it no longer necessary. However, alert your units to stand down from the previous orders and are to resume their usual routine. You are dismissed."

Though his voice was still commanding, it was not as harsh in tone as it had been earlier. He was more relaxed in his poise and, though he felt that the mortal did not pose a threat, he would err on the side of caution.

"By your leave, my Lord," replied Urúvion, bowing and hastily retrieving his weaponry. His second did the same. Once the guard had departed the chamber to take up their positions outside the doors, all turned their attention back to the balcony.

Elladan was holding the babe as they watched the moon begin its gradual rise in the western sky. Several shards of moonlight caressed the foot of the mortal's bed and, instinctively, 3170 began to push the blanket off. Caladwen hurried to her side, shielding the mortal from the eyes of the males.

"I believe I can handle all from here, my Lords," she called over her shoulder, as the blanket slipped to the stone flooring between her and the bed.

Elrond snickered, motioning for his sons to turn away and leave the two in privacy.

"Shall I take the babe, father?" asked Elladan, gently rocking the cooing infant in his arms.

"Yes. I think he shall be well in your care, seeing that Caladwen shall be occupied for the rest of the evening. I shall have Nauriel pass by your chambers to check on the both of you, and render any assistance you may require. Come; let us leave them in peace."

As the three Elves left the chamber and the door closed behind them, 3170's eyes suddenly snapped open and caught the surprised gaze of the healer.

"Valar! Those eyes!" exclaimed the elleth, as she stood by the mortal's side, hand to her chest. They were clear and piercing this time, not pale, glassy and hazed over as they were when she first opened them earlier.

And their depths…Valar, their deepness rivaled the deepest of caverns. The mortal's eyes were jet black in their centers and had a thick halo of gold around the irises. There were no whites to them at all. They reminded the healer of the eyes of an eagle; a bird of prey, more so than a child of Man. The mortal stared intently at the Elf for several long moments, unblinking, sharp and steady, as if the creature was studying every detail of the elleth's features and burning them into her memory.

Unnerved by the intensity of the creature's gaze, Caladwen moved to fold the blanket and place it beneath the woman's head, thereby ducking from the mortal's piercing sight. Nonetheless, the mortal's eyes followed every move she made.

Finally, being so uncomfortable with the mortal's scrutinizing observation; Caladwen broke the silence, speaking in frustration and unease.

"Honestly! Must you gaze so?" Not truly expecting a reply, since she spoke in her native tongue.

3170 cocked her head sideways slightly, hearing the elleth's voice change in pitch and volume. It appeared this being was clearly annoyed by something. Hearing spoken voice was an extreme rarity for the cyborg, as her kind spoke telepathically in binary code and mathematical equations. She had learned some of the sub-human tongue in her world, nearly two centuries ere, but only spoke verbally once in her long life.

After nearly two days, for she was very well aware of how long she had been here, she had become accustomed to the presence of this female, and more recently, communicating with her through images alone. She knew that the others could also be interacted with in the same way, but she did not yet trust them implicitly enough to reach out to them.

This was a female. One whom she felt was of a gentle, weaker nature. And one that was open to her calls. Still, she did not take this female, or her abilities, for granted nor did she underestimate her, as she did not know or understand the nature, strengths and weaknesses of these strange beings that surrounded her.

She knew them not to be humanoid, as they had a peculiar energy pattern surrounding them. Their auras were quite different than any variant of human species that she had ever encountered, and their genetic makeup was eclectic to say the least.

She had gleaned enough information about their intelligence and biology by sharing images with the female, and found them to be nearer to her kind in evolution than human. She would need to study them with more intensity as she regained her strength and abilities.

Their spoken language was very strange but surprisingly pleasant to the ear. She had regained her sense of hearing within a few hours of the first rays of sunlight touching her body, but did not allow those that tended her to know this. She wanted to especially keep this knowledge from the most powerful of the beings; the tall male, genetically older than the rest. He appeared to be the leader of the others. She did not yet trust this one with communications.

She had heard them conversing quietly, while thinking that she was oblivious to her surroundings. A few more days of being exposed to their speech, and she would be able to understand and speak with them fluently. As it was, she could understand a great deal of what was said already.

Every word, construct and component of what they uttered was stored and retrieved as needed, giving her the ability to learn more about where she was and who/what these beings were and, if she were in any danger. So far, she did not sense any immediate threats, with the exception of the two who had carried very primitive weaponry.

She continued to study the female hovering above her, taking note that it was still agitated and nervous. 3170 thought a moment. Ah. Her eyes. Yes. They would strike unrest into the core of one not of her kind, that was certain. How many countless times had humans gasped in fright when her gaze had been turned sharply upon them without her helm? She smirked slightly. Turned her head to the side and gazing at the stonework, the cyborg caught the subtle sigh the female let out in relief. So, it was her gaze. 3170 made a mental note of this behavior. No telling what use it could be to her in the coming days.

"Thank the Valar…" breathed Caladwen, as the mortal turned her gaze elsewhere.

"I shall need to speak with Master Elrond about your awakening," said the elleth, more to herself, as she fluffed the blanket under the mortal's head and patted her arm.

"Do not wander while I take my leave, m'lady. I do so wish you could promise me that…" she chuckled as she turned to leave.

"Im…úinnas…..Im……heb..…peth…nín…" croaked 3170, the sound of her own voice startling herself. She spoke, not knowing if her vocal cords were even functional after all this time.

I will not…I keep my word…!

Caladwen froze in mid-step at hearing the rough and choppy voice speaking her native tongue. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and a shiver ran down her spine.

It could not be…

Slowly the Elf turned to meet the eagle-eyed gaze of the creature calmly stared back, awaiting the female's response, a smugness to her chiseled features.

"You….you speak….you kn…know…." Caladwen mumbled and nearly swooned, holding onto the frame of the balcony doors to steady herself.

"Mas…Master Elrond, I must seek out my Lord…" she nearly gasped as she glanced quickly at the mortal once more and fled the chambers.

AN: Words in are mind speak or thoughts to ones self.


	4. Chapter 4

As always, much thanks to KEEK for yet another beta session (hugs hon!), and to Elentari for the continuous prodding and poking to keep pounding out Borgie's (Affectionate nickname to OFC) adventure. Thanks for the continued encouragement ladies!

Elrond, lost in thought, sat in a chaise out on his study's balcony. When a frantic knocking echoed throughout the chambers, he turned his head slightly ( and as most Eldar are wont to do) he remained composed. He raised a brow though, curious as to the reason for the voracity in which the knocking continued. Setting down his goblet on a small table, he rose to answer.

Pulling open the great wooden door, he paused at the doorframe and grimaced when greeted with a most distraught and paling healer, who leaned breathlessly against the door's frame.

"Caladwen? What troubles you, my dear?" he questioned in concern.

My Lord, a most…an impossible…the Mortal…she...ai'!" Caladwen stumbled over her words and Elrond took her gently by the arm, leading her to the chaise on the balcony. After she sat down, he poured her a goblet of wine and handed it to her.

"Calm yourself, child. Take some wine," urged the Elf-lord placing his hand over the elleth's on the goblet's stem and tilting it slightly to her lips. Taking a deep quaff, Caladwen then leaned back against the chaise's cushions with a deep sigh, and closed her eyes. Elrond waited patiently as the elleth regained her usual calm composure. With another soft sigh, Caladwen opened her eyes and gazed uncertainly at Elrond.

"Now then, mistress healer, what has brought you so alarmed to my chambers, and at such an hour?" voiced the lord, taking the elleth's hand in his comfortingly.

Leaning forward and looking directly into his eyes she replied, "The Mortal…She awoke soon after you and the young Lords departed the healing chambers. She spoke, m'lord." Her speech was even and steady, the wine having somewhat calmed the uneven tremor in her voice.

"And this fact has you in a frenzy? I do not understand, Caladwen."

She took a breath in frustration. "No, m'lord. 'Tis not what has me unhinged….The fact that she spoke in the Elven tongue, is what has set me beside myself."

She took another deep sip of wine and leaned back against the cushions in silence once more.

Elrond sat speechless for a long moment, pondering these few poignant words uttered by Caladwen. He reached for his own fluted glass and drained it before speaking.

Turning to Caladwen he said, "I do not doubt your words, mistress, though it is difficult to fathom how this human, not of this time and realm, could conceivably verbalize in our tongue."

Gazing at her goblet as she swirled it absently, she shrugged and rolled her eyes before taking the last sip of her Dorwinion wine.

Elrond waited until she finished her libation then extended his hand, helping her to her feet.

"I believe that we should pay our swiftly recovering sojourner an evening visit," the Elf-lord replied, seeing the questioning look upon Caladwen's face. She grimaced but followed reluctantly. When they reached the healing chambers, they found 3170 standing on the balcony, nude; the linens crumpled upon the bed. She turned to face the two Elves as they entered the rooms.

"M'lady!" gasped Caladwen, as she scurried to retrieve the cast aside bedding and shield her from Elrond's view.

"It would appear that our guest is not as concerned with modesty as are the Children of Men of this realm, Caladwen. Leave her be if she so wishes," voiced Elrond bemused.

Caladwen stared back at the Elf-lord wide-eyed and in shock, then glanced at the Mortal who was gazing back at them blankly and emotionless. The healer looked down at the blanket in her hands and then tossed it unceremoniously back onto the bed rolling her eyes and mumbling, "As you wish, m'lord, honestly…"

Elrond snickered and took several steps towards the females when 3170 visibly stiffened and glared sharply at the male Elf.

"Valar! Her eyes!" he voiced lowly with a silent gasp.

"Yet another strange trait about her, Master Elrond, that I was remiss in speaking of. Forgive me."

Elrond inclined his head in the healer's direction, with brows raised and then looked back at the Mortal. 3170 was still glaring at him intently. She ran her gaze the length of his body, from head to toe, and Elrond felt as though he were being scrutinized as worthy prey. For the first time in eons he felt a pang of nervousness. Clearing his throat, he directed his speech to the Mortal.

"You are able to speak in our tongue?" He spoke slowly and clearly, making certain that she was able to understand everything.

3170's gaze softened slightly as the elder being addressed her. She inclined her head slightly, seemingly studying the meaning of what was just spoken. Hundreds of Sindarin words that she had heard, and mentally recorded over the course of her recovery, passed through her mind. Possible combinations of their words and snippets of conversing rushed through her memory, as she searched for the proper response. She was not yet fully fluent in their language and at the least she had a basic grasp of their tongue.

Satisfied that she had found the proper prose, she nodded her head slightly, ( a common trait amongst these people she noted) and said in a halting and rasping voice, "Lit...tle…do I…und…understand…as…of yet…" Her voice sounded harsh, as the sound a poisonous asp would make when disturbed.

Elrond was taken aback and glanced at Caladwen in bewilderment. The healer merely shrugged with an I-told-you-so look upon her face. Elrond looked back at the Mortal who had apparently determined that he posed no threat, and was now facing away from the two Elves.

"What are you called, m'lady?" Elrond asked softly but in a clear voice.

Still looking out over the balcony, 3170 paused to think a moment and to translate the statement. What am I called? She turned slowly, this time allowing Caladwen to wrap her in the linens. The cyborg nodded to the elleth then snapped her gaze up to Elrond. Unsure of what the translation would be in these beings' strange tongue she used the sub-human tongue of her world.

"3170, Alpha, 2260 A.D. S.Y." The buzzing and high pitched whine of her voice was harsh to the Elves's ears as she spoke in her native dialect.

Both Elves glanced at each other in confusion, not having the foggiest idea of what she just said.

"Mayhap, there is no translation of her name in our tongue?" asked Caladwen.

Elrond knitted his brow. There had to be a way of finding out her name. He looked back up at 3170 saying, "We do not understand, m'lady."

The cyborg frowned then said, "Speak numbers"  
The Eldar looked at each other.

"Speak numbers? What, by the Valar, does she mean?" asked Caladwen, shaking her head.

Elrond, however, had an idea as to what she wanted them to do.

"I believe she asks for us to speak of numbers in Sindarin, so that she might learn them, though I do not know her reasoning for such."

Elrond looked to the cabinets where bandages and other healing supplies were kept.

"Caladwen, bring me as many finger splints as you have in store."

"M'lord?" she questioned giving him a querying look.

"Please, you shall see…"

Caladwen did as she was bidden and returned to the table where Elrond stood before.

The Elf-lord smiled and then lifted one showing her he would count them. Placing a wooden splint out for each number he spoke numerically, he counted to 12. He stopped there and waited for the cyborg's response.

3170 tilted her head and said, "More."

He continued to 24. Still she wanted him to perdure.

He reached 31 and she snapped, "Daro!"

She repeated the number '31' in Sindarin then stated, "More."

This went on until the cyborg had repeated back her partial title of '3170.'

Elrond breathed a sigh of relief. The game was tiring but, finally, they had found out her name. Or so he thought.

"Im úmethen…"

"I understand you are not yet done," He assured her. At her statement Elrond smiled reassuringly. She had more to her name and they had not yet learned the whole of it but, they had enough to go on for now. "Peace, m'lady. Your title as we know it is plenteous," voiced Elrond gently, hoping she had understood.

3170 stared back nonchalantly, arms crossed over her chest and legs crossed at the ankles.

"Very well," she croaked.

Elrond and the healer noted that the more she spoke the more the clarity of her voice improved. There was still a hissing rasp to it but it was fading gradually.

"A number? She is known as a number? Great Ilúvatar! What kind of realm allows the naming of their subjects by numbers?" huffed Caladwen, agitated.

Elrond chuckled as she continued. "She cannot be known by such a title, Master Elrond. We must name her otherwise."

"And if she does not accept such a bestowing?" he retorted seriously, pondering the mortal's reaction of such a suggestion.

"Well, I do not see any reason why she would refuse." Still flustered the healer grimaced at Elrond's reply.

Elrond merely gazed at her serenely as she sighed and thought a moment. The healer did have a point. Such a name would stand out like a sore thumb among his people, and those of Middle Earth for that matter. "You are correct, Caladwen.Mayhap we shall ask her what she would desire to be called in time. Would that suffice and set your mind at ease?"

"Yes, m'lord. Twould," she said, inclining her head in a slight bow, a small smile gracing her lips.

"Marvelous. Now, we should tend to our ward's sustentative needs?"

"Ai'! But of course, Master Elrond, where has my mind gone. She must be famished!"

Turning back toward the woman, Caladwen said, "You must be most hungry, not having eaten for nigh two days. Do you wish a meal?" The healer spoke while she took the cyborg by the arm leading her into the chambers.

3170 processed the request, translating as best she could. Realizing that the female was asking if she were in need of food, the cyborg replied, "No. Not required."

Caladwen and Elrond gave her a dubious look with the healer asking, "At least drink, m'la…er…3170. Surely you must be parched?"

In the characteristic of her people, the cyborg sharply shook her head side-to-side once. "Not required," she repeated while crossing over to a chase and sitting down

She remained unmoving in that position until Elrond and Caladwen had finished speaking with each other. Elrond, seeing the shocked expression appearing across the healers' features in response to the Mortal's words, took Caladwen by the arm. Leading her a short distance away from where 3170 sat, he bent closely and spoke. They kept their voices low so as not to let the Mortal hear.

""This is absurd, M'lord. A human not taking food or drink after two days? And Eru knows how long she has taken naught before her arrival," she whispered, then finished, "And having been injured? Tis unheard of." She sniffed and turned her head, crossing her arms defiantly.

"She is not of ordinary makeup, Caladwen, remember this. Her creation is doubtless much different than any mortal soul we have come to know. We must have patience."

3170 stared unblinking into space, sending out a blanketing stream of subsonic communications from her mind. She listened to the two beings' go on about her; their conversation, nearly imperceptible. As she hearkened silently, hundreds of packets of data passed from her consciousness into the great void. She strained to make out a response from others of her kind; from the Guardians, even from her lowest of subordinates. The dull drone of white noise filtered in where data should have returned.

It was as she had postulated. An affirmation to her assumption, that she alone had found her way into this aberrant universe. Her attention drifted back to the two Elves still in conversation. She inclined her head in their direction. So, they believed her to be human, did they? She snorted in indignation. That fact would need clarifying. She blinked and glanced at the two standing nearly 40 feet from where she sat, her unusual eyes glinting brightly in the chamber's torchlight.

"I am not human," she whispered coolly, knowing that her reply would greatly startle the two.

Both Elves ceased speaking in mid-sentence and looked in her direction at the same time.

She definitely got their attention.

"She has heard us, M'lord…?"

"Affirmative."

"Tis not poss…" gasped the healer.

Silence.

"She is not mortal?" Caladwen just realized the whole of what the Mortal had said.

Before Elrond could respond to any of this the cyborg interrupted.

"Rest assured."

Quickly slipping into the little known Sylvan tongue, Elrond bowed his head closer to Caladwen.

"Twould appear that the lady has an interestingly similar ability…akin to our kind. I would desire for you to observe and relate to me the latest tidings on any additional discoveries that might transpire."

Replying in the more ancient speech, Caladwen answered indignantly and in a hissing whisper, "You wish for me to become a spy! I dare say, Master Elrond, with all due respect, I am a healer not one of covert dealings! She is a patient, m'lord, not a prisoner!"

Elrond raised his hands in a gesture of peace. "Now, now, Caladwen. Far be it for me to ask you to compromise your integrity, m'lady. 'Tis not my desire. Not in the least. I merely ask that you continue to observe the woman as you have been doing all along. I am not tasking you to become a watcher of an emmisariel nature."

Silence reigned for several long moments, as the elleth weighed that which her Lord had bidden of her. Occasionally she would steal a glance at the Mortal then at Elrond. Taking a deep breath she looked Elrond square in the eye.

"I shall not divulge anything of a...um…personal nature that is kept between those of the fairer sex."

"Agreed."

I shall not sneak about or eavesdrop upon her either. I will come to you with whatever reveals itself to me in the natural course of things that may transpire between myself and the Mortal, ah...being…."

"Agreed."

"Very well then," the healer retorted as she bowed hear head slightly to the Elf-lord and added as she rose, "Hearken to me, my Lord, I shall do no sneaking!"

Elrond snorted, "Fair enough, mistress. Fair enough. Now, let us attend to the lady, shall we?"

"To inquire about her most acute powers of hearing, mahap?" she jested with a sly smile upon her lips.

"Precisely."

"Humph, at least she has revealed that tidbit of her own free will and accord. One less mystery for me to pry into…" she quipped under her breath.

Elrond shook his head slightly in amusement as they made their way back to where 3170 still sat. She continued to gaze at both Elves intently, watching, listening and learning. They were very graceful beings, seeming to float over the ground rather than walk. And they were highly intelligent from what she had learned from the mind speak with the female.

The cyborg noted that the language changed briefly when they discovered she could hear them, and she correctly surmised that this was intentional, so that she would not be able to understand what they said. The Mortal would need to learn this language as well. Time 3170, there was time.

She thought to herself. After all, she did not have any superiors to report to and she would not need to undergo any further programming. Also, she no longer had an army to command.

Pushing aside these musings, she ran another sequence of self diagnostics. Much had been repaired and her array of sensory receptors was fully functional. Sight, smell, tactile, auditory function and the bioelectric functions of echo location, sonar, infrared and heat sensors were fully online. Her biological systems were at nearly 100 percent.

She began shutting down the bioelectric sub-systems, as her neuromotor and muscular control was now sufficiently operating for her to regain her normal mobility. Her exceptional level of strength still had not returned to normal, which was to be expected, seeing that most of the necessary proteins had been coagulated from the intense heat her body had been exposed to.

The muscle tissue was still regenerating and the elctrogenetic components working to rebuild the cell structure were still working feverishly. All in all, things were progressing very well. She would be fully functional in a matter of days.

This process had taken a matter of milliseconds as the two Elves came to her side. They looked at her curiously as she stared blankly up at them for a few moments, and Caladwen gestured to sit by the cyborg's side. 3170 obliged and moved over slightly. An air of nervousness and uncertainty enveloped the trio and the cyborg did not help matters much with her incessant, sharp gaze.

"I feel as if a mouse under her scrutiny, m'lord. If she would only cease that infuriating glare! Valar!"

The healer spoke within her thoughts, hiding her conversation from 3170. She reached out to Elrond, touching his mind with her concerns.

"Yes. I agree it is unnerving but, it has proved to be harmless, if anything. At least, to those she does not think to be foe. I would venture a guess that many an enemy has fallen before her once such a look has been cast upon them," Elrond replied silently, his body kept still to hide his communications, for he did not want the being to suspect he spoke internally in a private discussion with the healer.

So reluctant was Caladwen to use the woman's numeric title, that she now began addressing the creature with the formal title of 'm'lady'. This even though she now had her doubts that she, or better yet, it, even was a lady, or human for that matter.

"M'lady…" The healer cleared her throat and continued. "…Would you be so kind as to avert your gaze? I am finding it most unnerving."

3170 remained silent, seeming not to understand the request. Caladwen fidgeted uncomfortably, her demeanor now becoming quite agitated. She shot a swift glance at the being beside her and was startled when she spoke.

"I am fi..finding you…bo…both, interesting…creatures…to obs…observe…"

Elrond's raised his brows in a combination of amusement and dumbfoundedness. He had not given a thought that they, too, were objects of study to this strange being, just as much as she was to them.

Just as he made to reply, Elladan entered the chamber with the infant. 3170's head snapped around sharply, hearing the soft cooing of the child. Her eyes narrowed as she recalled all that had transpired, bringing them both here to this world. So, the spawn had survived after all, she thought with agitation.

The cyborg stood and met Elladan at the doorway, stopping an arm's length away from the Elf. She tilted her head to the side and reached out to pull back the fabric semi-covering the child's face.

"It lives…" her hoarse, raspy voice dripped with disdain, as she gazed sharply at the creature in the Elf's arms.

Without looking up she asking flatly "Male or female?"

"You do not know? Is this child not your own?" asked Elladan in shock, firstly, because he heard her speaking in his tongue and secondly, the fact that she did not know the sex of the child.

3170 tensed. "It is not. It is human. I am not." She glared haughtily at the Elf as if she had been insulted. It was then, for the first time, that he saw her eyes as she turned into the pale torchlight, and he took in a sharp breath between his teeth.

"Valar!" he breathed glancing at his father and the healer.

"Male or female?" she repeated tersely.

"The child is male, m'lady," voiced Elrond firmly, feeling that this being had no warmth for the infant.

3170 snorted in indignation and shook her head slightly as she made her way to the balcony, standing with her back toward the three. Caladwen looked on in bewilderment, having observed the interaction between the woman and child in shock.

"You would think she would have some interest in the babe, m'lord."

"One would think, Caladwen. However, I feel there is something that we may not understand about their relationship."

Elladan came to his father's side in a quandary and obviously angered. "Father, she speaks our tongue! She has the eyes of a bird of prey and the temperament of a demon of Mordor! She treats this babe as if it were an insect! Something of the slightest significance! By the Valar! Does this woman have no conscience? A heart for pity's sake?" he hissed lowly, low enough not to be heard by Mortal ears.

3170 heard all clearly and chose not to respond just yet. If they only knew. They had no idea with what or whom they were dealing with. She could not blame them though. Before her last instructions had been given, she would never have given a thought to taking pity upon a lower form of life. Or of her own kind for that matter.

The unfledged and mother would have died instantly with no thought on her part. Truthfully, she had no conscience, no heart, no soul and no emotions whatsoever. At least, she didn't before having her memory mangled by a botched programming sequence.

Her departed comrade was right. She had been malfunctioning. And she continued to do so, it would seem, because she was beginning to have emotional episodes and social interactions with these beings. Foreign things like trusting in them and conversing in their own tongue, proved her faulty programming; all of these things never would have occurred otherwise.

For the first time in her long life she felt confusion and an uncertainty of all that happened around her. And she had the eerie feeling that she was losing control of her own existence. She ran another phase of self diagnostics, making certain that she had indeed retained all of her abilities, physical and mental. So far, all systems indicated that she had. But something unknown had been awakened within and it greatly disturbed her. She was beginning to feel and that made her vulnerable and weak in her mind.

These were two aspects that were greatly unsettling and nearly impossible for her to comprehend. She was adamant to not let these weaknesses, as she called them, show through to these creatures, for she did not fully trust in them quite yet. If she would at all.

The voice of the alpha male brought her attention back to the situation at hand. Just in the past few hours, her grasp of their language was nearly complete and her fluency was now of an advanced stage. She would prove to them here and now that she did indeed have little conscience, heart or soul. Regardless of what the very heart she was denying existed told her.

"M'lady, what are your wishes for the child?"

Without turning the cyborg answered the Elf-lord tersely, and with a flourish of her hand said, "Do with it as you wish. It is not of my concern. I merely saved it from an inevitable death"  
The room fell silent as the three elves stood in mute shock. Such a reaction they had never witnessed from any being that had come to Imladris.

"3170. I…we, do not understand. You have no connection to this child? What moved you to save its life if you feel nothing for it?" asked Elrond, clearly shocked.

The cyborg turned slowly, her eyes glittering coldly as they met the Elf-lord's.

"A mindless action in the heat of battle. Nothing more." Her flippant remark chilled the room. The occupants could not hide their shock at her merciless declaration.

"Do you mean to say that twas a mistake? An err in judgment on your part that caused you to reach out to this infant?" voiced Elrond in agitation.

3170 took several steps toward Elrond and stopped an arm's length from him.

"My race does not miscalculate, Elrond. The offspring is nothing to me." She nearly hissed her response.

"Your grasp of our language is astounding, m'lady…" replied Elrond coldly, taking the child from his son and turning back to the cyborg. He turned the child's face up to meet the cyborg's gaze. The babe gurgled happily and Elrond watched her reaction intently, as the infant reached out its hands to the woman.

"If you can look upon this child and feel nothing as a human being, then you are the coldest living creature to walk this earth, with the exception of Sauron's minions."

3170 felt a great uneasiness spread within as she rested her eyes upon the child. It was not true. She did indeed feel something towards this youngling and fought the urge to reach out to the infant. But another emotion muscled its way to the fore front of her mind. Pride.

"As I have been attempting to make you understand, I am not human. And…who are these Saur..on's minions?" Elrond ignored her question, and focused upon her scathing reply.

She uncharacteristically swallowed and turned away from the Elf and child, certain that she had made her point, but it was too late. Elrond had taken note of the nearly imperceptible change in emotion that passed across the woman's face for a few seconds, and the slight rising motion of her hand at her side as she struggled to hold her limb motionless. He smiled inwardly, knowing that this creature coursed through some sort of transition, a metamorphosis in a sense, as she battled that which was unfamiliar to her.

'Caladwen, if you will…" He turned to the healer and passed the child into her arms.

"Our guest and I are in need of a chat," he said softly to both Elladan and Caladwen as he bid them to take their leave, and turned to follow the Mortal onto the balcony.


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks so much to KEEK, as usual, for both an excellent and entertaining edit/beta job. Your comments and suggestions should be stand alone prose pieces in stories of their own! Hugs, hon!

And to El...for the prodding to keep the chapters rolling...Hugs (SM! Squeee!)

"And Caladwen…?"

Turning she answered, "Yes, m'lord?"

See if you might find the seamstress. Our guest should be clothed at some point…whether she desires so or not…"

Caladwen giggled softly. "Assuredly, Master Elrond. Otherwise the hidden valley shall garner the reputation for hosting unruly festivities, such as the realm of Mirkwood is said to enjoy!"

"Caladwen!" chastised the Elf-lord in mock sternness.

She went on her way chuckling merrily with the infant in her arms.

When he turned back toward the balcony, to follow the cyborg's movement, he stopped abruptly. Watching in awe, he kept his gaze upon her, riveted by the soft glimmering of her body in the newly rising sun. As the slivers of Anor's touch cascaded upon the bare arms and shoulders of the Mortal, the surface of her skin shimmered like faceted jewels in a beam of light. When the sun's rays became stronger, shining brightly, her skin washed with the light and she literally began to glow. He continued to stare at her in wonder as she was gradually enveloped in a brilliant, soft blue-white aura. Elrond noted with curiosity that her response to the sunlight produced a similar result which they had witnessed being exhibited by her strange weapon when it was exposed to moonlight.

As the sun rose higher, 3170 allowed the linens to fall from her body. She stretched out both of her arms and lifted her face to the warming rays of Middle-earth's powerful light source. While the Elf observed this strange creature, he was able to hear a low but perceptible hum begin to emanate from the being. The soothing and calming sound wafted through the air, and he could feel the vibrations of it reach out to him welcomingly.

Elrond closed his eyes as the Mortal's energy blossomed out around her and enveloped him in healing warmth. He had felt this way only once before, over 3000 years ere. The moment Ereinion Gil-galad, the last High King of the Noldor bestowed the ring of Air, Vilya, upon his hand, the Peredhel became overwrought with the powerful, violent waves of energy and heat, which brought him to his knees before his king. That fierce blast of energy settled into a gentle wave of warmth similar to what he was now experiencing.

As the full spectrum of the sunlight sheathed her body in its radiance, 3170 felt the last of her injuries bind and her physical strength return full force. Very much aware of the effect her regeneration was having upon the male behind her, she allowed it to continue. Through this gentle phenomenon, the cyborg possessed the ability to touch the mind of this powerful creature without his awareness. She knew that she must use the least invasive and most secure method of gleaning information about this obvious leader of ethereal beings. Since regaining consciousness, she had sensed that the elf lord exuded power in both mind and body and she did not wish to scan him in the same way she had scrutinized the female. She could not risk underestimating either his intelligence or abilities. Satisfied that he posed neither harm nor threat, she decided to trust him a bit more.

Turning to face the Elf, 3170 waited a moment for the Elf-lord to open his eyes before speaking. Sensing the inspection, he realized that he had become the object of her scrutiny. Elrond opened his eyes and met the gaze of the cyborg, though it was tinged with curiosity and had lost its icy intensity.

"You are long endured, half…elf," she stated matter-of-fact, her head slanted slightly, and in a softer voice than he would have thought she possessed. The raspyness was nearly gone. She leaned easily against the stone railing, both arms and ankles crossed. Elrond could not help but cast his gaze upon her bare and perfect form, as she still stood exposed to the world. Clearing his throat, the Elf tilted his head slightly at her statement. Then he and crossed his own arms, bemused that she would use such a term. How in Arda did she know this fact about him?

"Such is the essence of my kind, m'lady. Yes, I am of long years. But tell me, what other knowledge of my kin do you possess?" he asked, nodding to the blanket crumpled at her feet. She smirked and reached for the fabric, wrapping it about herself once more.

The cyborg glanced downward for a moment then looked back up, slowly. "I know only that of which you surrender willingly."

Elrond stiffened, dropping his arms to his sides; his face now devoid of all emotion. "You have touched my mind!" he voiced lowly in bewilderment, but did not find anger at her invasion.

She lifted her chin sharply.

"By what mastery?" he whispered, taking several steps in her direction.

"By methods not usual to my countenance, Elrond," she replied nonchalantly, as she turned languidly away from the healer and faced the rising sun.

"The procedures common to my kind in the procuring of information are, most…discomforting…" She paused slightly before continuing. "…Especially when leveled upon that of a lesser species, to say the least," she voiced flatly, and turned back to face him.

"It is your good fortune that I am presently not…" she paused, dropping her gaze, contemplating the best words to describe her more brutal persona.

Lifting her head she finished, narrowing her eyes. "…Of my usual disposition."

"And what, pray, would your usual disposition be, if I may be so bold?"

The cyborg's demeanor eroded from relatively agreeable to hostile within seconds. "Extremely unpleasant…" she nearly hissed, meeting the Elf-lord face-to-face in the middle of the portico within two strides.

"As you were…concerning the child…" mused Elrond calmly, not phased in the least by the woman's behavior or demeanor.

3170 glared at him angrily but could not fathom any pointed response. She pulled back and cocked her head.

Having her where he wanted her, the Elf continued. "Do not think that I did not take note of the façade you fought to erect when beholding the child, m'lady…"

"You know not what you speak, half-elf!" she ground out, her fists now clenched at her sides; more in frustration at herself than in anger against the Elf-lord. What was happening to her and how could he read her so well? She felt unsettled by these feelings that crept uninvited into her usually ordered and logical thought processes.

"I am not programmed for such behavior. There has been a…a…malfunction…a..." she began stuttering uncharacteristically in her own language, struggling to find the word in his tongue to express her thoughts.

"…Mischance. We do not exhibit base-level functions. We are incapable of such actions. This flaw will pass. I have been damaged but have repaired all successfully. I shall regain that which I once was, presently."

Her speech was interjected with harsh hisses and buzzing as she fought to translate her binary language into Sindarin.

"I Beg to differ, 3170…Greatly do I challenge your statement. The moment you took that babe into your arms, no…the instant the thought entered your mind to do as you did, you were no longer of your kind. Nor is there any returning to your foremost state. You took your first steps in becoming that which you were taught to despise. This one flaw, as you call it, which I share with you…will grow…"

3170 stared blankly at the Elf. Not a logical thought passing through her mind. Truly, nothing at all did, for that matter. Literally struck dumb, she stood motionless. Her eyes didn't blink; her chest didn't even visibly rise. If he could not have sensed her essence, Elrond would have thought her an inanimate object.

She had been cast into an illogical loop. Her mental processes began working in overload. Every moment of her existence; from the nanosecond she was given her last instructions, to the positioning of her troops, to the instant she had left her world, blasted through her senses. Essentially, she was in the midst of a bioelectric hard drive crash.

The woman stood before Elrond in this fashion for a rather long period of time, and the Elf-lord watched her, concern etched on his brow.

"3170?"

He passed his hand before her eyes and did not receive a response.

"M'lady?" he questioned.

Still, he got no reaction. Moving to her side, he took her arm and led her to the bed. Even though the back of her knees were touching the cot's edge, she did not sit of her own accord. Elrond gently pressed upon her shoulder and she stiffly sank to the mattress. He sat beside her helplessly, uncertain of what he should do. As he pondered this current predicament, Elrohir entered the chambers and crossed to the balcony. He gazed quizzically at his father and then to the strangely immobile woman by his side.

"Is there a problem, father?" asked the younger Elf, taking a seat to the left of the Mortal.

Elrond sighed deeply as he regarded the woman. "Most assuredly. I believe I have caused her great unrest."

"How so?" queried the twin, passing his hand in front of her eyes and glancing back at his father with a pained expression.

"I have presently made her aware that she is human…"

Elrohir took up her hand, holding it between both of his own and gazed at her in concern while he spoke.

"I do not understand. Is this not her makeup; her present being? Is she not of the Second born?"

Elrond contemplated his son's questions before answering. Since the woman's arrival upon the threshold of Imladris, he had been bothered by the mixed energies the creature exhibited. She had a definite sign of mortality; the blood of Men flowed within the being's makeup, that was assured, but this was greatly overshadowed by a more powerful entity. Something much more innate and cold superseded the natural heat of her humanity, as if there were two diametrically opposed creatures contained within one body.

He cast his gaze at the female known to them as a number, and frowned. Even her title was as if etched in stone. His instincts told him that a great battle waged within the Mortal, and that what she was experiencing went fiercely against the grain of her normal demeanor. A demeanor he shuddered to think of. He closed his eyes and attempted to reach out to the woman's mind.

What he experienced during this act nearly sent him reeling. The power that he encountered grew overwhelming and flailed in great turmoil. A tempest of information, knowledge, images and uncontrolled emotions swirled and tumbled within leaving the Elf-lord in a quandary feeling dumbfounded. Unexpectedly and forcefully thrown from her thoughts, Elrond nearly went pitching forward, if it were not for Elrohir catching him by the arm, and pulling him back onto the cot.

"Father!"

"I am hale, son. I am well. Peace. Peace…" whispered the healer, slightly waiving his hand weakly in the air, trying to catch his breath. It took great effort to dispel the great pounding in his temples caused by the joining.

He drew in a long deep breath, exhaling slowly. Though the bonding was brief, he gleaned a bit of information that helped him make some sense of it all. Strangely, there were no memories of childhood. No family life, no interactions of any kind other than with her own kin. Normal everyday activities of an expected social or cultural norm were devoid from her mind.

The images that he did chance to catch glimpses of were explicitly violent. He caught fleeting shards of black, fell images depicting what, he would venture to guess, would be her world. There was darkness and stark landscapes pockmarked with great craters, and the earth singed to pitch blackness. The scene reminded him of Mordor's battlefields some 3000 years ere. The very beings that had appeared in his homeland were spread out across a great flat landscape, thousands of them in well ordered ranks, moving rapidly and as one unit, firing hellatious weapons at seemingly helpless individuals.

The sight of bodies vaporizing into thin air looked so real before his sight. Then, a harsh and violent white light stunned his senses, severing the connection and careening him back out of her mind.

Turning wearily to his son he voiced his discoveries. "She is indeed of the Edain, Elrohir, but very little of this energy remains. Her feä is weak, well-nigh to the point of non-existence, and that which grants her life among those of flesh and blood, is not of the natural world." He raised his head and met Elrohir's wide-eyed gaze as he spoke.

"I dare say, my son that her essence is not of Eru's hand, and the Valar forgive me if it not be of the truth."

The two elves sat in silence for several moments, Elrohir glancing up at the woman several times as he pondered his father's words. Finally, the younger Elf's soft voice broke the silence.

"Then…of what race would she be? Surely not of the Edehil or Peredehil? For we have strong feär and are of flesh and blood. How can one exist without feä?"

He paused looking to his father to answer in his wisdom, then added in a hushed whisper, "Surely she is not of the Orcs, for they are said to have no feär!"

Elrond merely shook his head in bewilderment.

"I know not, child. Tis vexing. Here sits a creature of great mystery. One that lives, but by rights should not draw breath." He leaned forward, resting his forearms upon his knees, and his chin on folded hands.

"She is not of the black creation akin to the Orc. This is assured. The babe would not have survived otherwise. No. She cannot be compared to those races known of this earth, Elrohir. Her mind is strong, powerful. Wholly bewildering to me and unlike any I have ever encountered. Yet it is not cast in evil. Her method of creation is far above anything that we of the Eldar can comprehend and, I dare say, even possibly that of Mithrandir."

"Yet…she draws breath, father. There is the beat of her heart. I can feel and hear it as I sit by her side. She is warm to the touch, as would be any living creature of the light. Her presence is palpable. I am at a loss, Ada."

Elrond sighed deeply, rubbing his temples.

"As am I, Elrohir. However, even for the short time that I held the bond, I found that there is a faint glow within her core, leading me to believe that her base substance is human. Her method of coming to our realm has set contrivances in motion which I feel have been cast in slumber, since her initial awakening to life. Though, it has been subdued and dominated, in purpose, by the coldness of her inner workings."

"Then, if this be the truth, she would verily be of two hearts, two essences."

"Twould seem."

As they finished speaking, 3170 abruptly came out of her trance-like state and refocused upon her surroundings. She blinked several times and leveled her gaze upon the elder Elf-lord.

"M'lady? Are you well?" queried Elrond worriedly.

Her eyes snapped sharply to Elrohir then back to the Elf-lord where they settled with great intensity.

"Affirmative."

Both elves looked to each other questioningly and 3170 realized that neither had understood her answer, having absently spoken in her own tongue. She closed her eyes briefly and drew in a short breath.

"Quite."

"Ah. Forgive us. Tis well. Tis well…you cast worry upon us, being as you were." answered Elrohir, releasing her hand once her realized that he still had hold of it. She was gazing at him with narrowed eyes as he let it go.

"Forgive me." He mumbled and looked away in a bit of embarrassment.

"Are you able to speak for a short while?" asked Elrond rising, and making his way to a small table where several cheeses, and a loaf of bread, had been left by his staff.

"Yes."

"Good. Would you care for any?" he turned toward her, gesturing at the tray before he brought it to his son and woman.

She shook her head once and Elrond tilted his head slightly and arched a brow.

"You are certain?"

"Yes."

"Very well."

He picked up a flask and brought all to a small table by the balcony. Lifting it, he brought it to where his son and the woman sat.

Seating himself next to the woman he said, "M'lady, I find it greatly peculiar that you do not receive food or drink. Especially, since you have been injured. You have taken naught since your arrival."

"Such is not required of my species in this way, and rarely, when maintenance is essential, it is not in such form as this." She gestured to the delicacies spread upon the table.

Both elves looked at her with bewildered expressions. "How then do you survive? Even those of our kind must nourishment now and again, though not in as much frequency as Men," asked Elrohir, while removing a bit of cheese from the tray.

"I did not say that I do not require nourishment. I specifically stated that when I do, it does not take such form as this which you consume," she voiced flatly.

Elrond cocked his head and voiced softly, "By what method then do you procure such enrichment, if not by the fruits of the earth?"

She looked directly at the Elf-lord. "Primarily from sunlight as do the species of…" she searched for the proper word, but all she could find was an archaic Latin term. Totally useless to her cause.

"Things that grow…ah…" She looked about the room trying to find the object of description. Looking to the open door of the healing chambers, she spotted a vase containing a flower arrangement on a small table and pointed to it.

"…Of that nature…" she finished, breathing out in relief that she had found that which she sought.

"Galas…a plant?" questioned Elrohir looking at her wide-eyed.

She repeated the new word, rolling it over her tongue several times.

"Ga..las…Plant. Yes. A plant."

"You heal and take nourishment from Anor…" voiced Elrond matter-of-fact, as the memory of her glimmering skin came to the forefront of his mind. He shook his head in wonder.

3170 eyed the healer silently as he pondered her statement. Beside him sat Elrohir, frozen in mid-bite, holding a bit of bread and cheese to his lips, gaping at her. She could just see his mind attempting to comprehend what he had just heard, that this being, this supposed human, was kin to a…a plant? He snapped his jaw shut and placed the morsel back onto the tray, then sat back slightly still looking at the cyborg in disbelief.

3170 glanced between both father and son intermittently, patiently awaiting any responses that might come of their conversation.

"I find this…intriguing… to say the least…" voiced Elrohir, brushing the crumbs from his hands and folding them upon his lap as he gazed at the woman intently.

"Which is the reason for the glow that enveloped your being as I came out onto the balcony…" added Elrond as he reached for another morsel from the tray.

"More so for maintenance and the completing of repairs. Nourishment was not the intent, or was it gained," answered 3170 as she shifted to face both elves sitting beside her.

"It is highly unusual for such activities to take place in the presence of those other than my kind, or in such a place of exposure. To make oneself new again, is conducted in concealment or when cloaked. However, under the circumstances, and my less than operable condition, such actions were necessary for my return to full er...health and…" Her eyes fixed sharply upon Imladris's lord as she spoke. "…I have come to trust you and your kind…" she hesitated briefly, "…To a certain degree..."

Elrond returned her gaze in kind. "I am pleased that you do, however, there is reserve in your voice as you say such."

3170 narrowed her eyes, a muscle twitching in her jaw as she clenched it; her gaze degenerating into a scathing glare. "You do not trust me fully as of yet…if the beings flanking the outer entrance are any indication."

She abruptly stood, firmly grasping her hands behind her back and began pacing before the Eldar. Both gave each other subtle looks of surprise that she could easily discern the presence of the guards, without ever having sight of them.

As she passed before Elrond she halted, and turned crisply upon her heels.

"Query?" She voiced, bending forward a bit with her head cocked slightly, as she squarely glared at Elrond. The Elf-lord nodded, head tilted in kind.

"If you garner the same level of trust toward myself, then tell me, Master Elrond, why I should lower my guard on the initiative?" she hissed, snapping back into an upright position. Holding Elrond's gaze for a moment, she then turned angrily and strode out onto the now sun-drenched balcony.

At the same moment, Gandalf silently entered the chambers, stopping in mid-step after catching the tail-end of the obviously heated discussion. He glanced at Elrond who raised his hand slightly, signaling for silence, and motioning for the Maia to take a seat next to him and his son.

Without turning 3170 quipped haltingly, "Good morning…Mithrandir."

The wizard slowly took his gaze from Elrond and raised it to the woman's back, his brows nearly disappearing into his silver hairline.

"She speaks Sindarin!" growled the wizard at Elrond, who merely shrugged and smiled briefly.

"When did this occur? Why was I not summoned? Why am I never informed of such things!" grumbled the elder in exasperation. The two Elf-lords rewarded him with low chuckles as he regained some of his composure.

Hesitantly Gandalf replied, "A good morn to you as well….erm…" he quickly glanced at Elrohir who whispered, "3170…"

"Eh? What did you say?" questioned the elder lowly, thinking he had heard wrong.

"Her name is 3170," repeated the younger Elf, quietly.

3170? He thought.

"Tis not a name! 'Tis a number! You mean to tell me that she is named a number?" boomed Gandalf, swiveling his head sharply toward the cyborg as she turned to face them.

"The Elf is correct." The woman turned slowly back around to face the trio. "I am called '3170'."

"Valar! Her eyes!" gasped the wizard, as her intense gaze locked upon his. Rising, he approached the woman for a better look.

Sensing that the old male posed little threat, but was not quite all that he appeared, she cautiously allowed his approach.

Stopping an arm's length away from her, Gandalf reached out a gnarled hand and gently curled his fingers under her chin. He turned her head slightly to the right and then to the left, studying her unique eyes.

"You see clearly with such eyes, my dear?"

"Exceptionally."

Gandalf cleared his throat. "How…er…clearly?" he asked cautiously, and seeing her expression darken slightly, quickly added, "…If I may be so bold."

She smirked and turned back to gaze out over the rolling hills, toward the Misty Mountains. Elrond and Elrohir rose and joined the two on the balcony, sensing that they were to be privy to something special.

"Elrond's trust, or rather, distrust in me, prevents my discussion of the matter."

Gandalf glanced at the Elf-lord and son questioningly. He quickly deducted it had been Elrond's idea to post a guard; his own advice to the Elf-lord to do so, ringing in his ears. Returning the glance, Elrond shrugged slightly. He was not quite ready to have the outer guards stand down. Not just yet. Not fully knowledgeable of the extent of her abilities, he realized they continued to grow nearly by the hour.

"Trust between us shall come with time, m'lady and, you cannot tell me that the fact I have posted a guard is surprising to you," replied the Elf-lord, quietly.

3170 set her jaw. Of course it was no surprise. She felt the same towards them, though, she was more at ease now than she had been upon her arrival. They would have been treated the same in her time and place. Very well. Dropping her gaze for a moment, she thought pensively. Give only enough of my abilities away to garner a bit of trust, if not respect and fear.

"No. I would have expected such, as I have felt the same." She looked up.

"Very well…To answer your question…" she snapped her gaze to Gandalf.

The wizard looked up cautiously, thinking that he had, perhaps, asked the incorrect question and angered this strange creature. He sighed and prepared for the worse.


	6. Chapter 6

I am again in debt to the wonderful KEEK for her tireless reviewing and butt-kicking, to get this chapter postable. as I have said before, without her, this story would never have seen the light of day. Best wishes, much love and hugs for you to get better soon. Love you sweetie!

"The mountain range over there…" 3170 pointed to the largest of the mountains in the distance; the one that flanked the north side of the High Pass.

They all turned in that direction. "Continue…" urged the wizard, not quite knowing what he was to receive for an answer.

"There is a very old tree situated near the edge of the timberline, at the top of the highest of the peaks. Can you see it?"

Gandalf squinted, stealing a sideways glance at the woman. He cleared his throat. "Er...I am unable to discern one tree from another, 31…m'lady…" he voiced in embarrassment.

Elrohir moved to 3170's side. "I do," he voiced firmly, casting a hard, momentary glare at the Mortal.

She gave the Elf a sideways glance and her lips quivered in what could have been taken as a small smile.

Turning back to the mountainous view she continued. "As I was saying…Mithrandir, I am able to discern this life form in detail and can count the number of needles in each bundle upon each branch. This particular specimen is coniferous in species, having two needles per cluster. It is known as Pinus resinosa Ait. in my time and place or, more commonly as, Red Pine, Norway pine or hard pine. It is extinct in my world. Within its branches is a small, yellow feathered creature, similar in kind to a Carduelis pinus, the Pine Siskin, also no longer in existence in my time. It is the male of the species and its body is…"

"Enough!" Elrond voiced sharply but then lowered his tone. Elrohir was gaping at the woman, as he too was able to discern the same sights. But being of Elf-kind he should be able to do so. Not so a human. What she described to them in such vivid detail stood nearly 30 leagues in the distance.

"The…the strangely named creature as you called it, is a bird, 3170. They are residents of many of the trees here. The fact that you could see it at all, let alone the tree it is nestled within is…" The younger Elf struggled for words. "…Unfathomable."

"Unfathomable indeed," croaked the wizard, a look of bewilderment on his wizen features.

"Yet another gift revealed, my lady. 'Twould seem that you aim to bewilder us?" Queried Elrond as he came to stand at her right side.

"You possess the sight of eagles, 3170, mayhap greater." His voice was low and was laced with great surprise and wonderment.

"My sight is many times greater than any bird of prey, Elrond."

"Indeed?" He voiced, turning back to face the mountains. "How is this possible? By what magic do you conjure such inhuman feats?"

She snorted in disgust and frustration. "I am not human!" she snapped, then, "…And, it is not…this…magic…that you speak of. It is the way of my creation. All of my kind have use of this feature."

Elrond turned to his son. "You are certain of what you beheld?"

"I am, father. She speaks the truth, as difficult as it is to fathom." Disbelief hung in his tone, and this new knowledge left him a bit discomfited.

"Return your sight to the aforementioned tree, Elrond. Do you still see this …bird?"

He hesitated at her demanding tone, and raised a brow at her command. He smirked slightly, inclining his head. He yielded to her request if only to quell his curiosity.

He scanned the tree line and found the object of their scrutiny.

"Yes."

"Can you discern each of its feathers?"

Elrond nodded. What she asked was approaching the limit of his own great sight.

"Now, on each feather, can you count the strands of featherlets that make up each one?"

He nodded once more. She glanced to the side, looking at the Elf-lord and smirked slyly. She turned her gaze back towards the mountains and Elrond heard a nearly imperceptible hum. He glanced at the woman but saw no facial expression or outward movement. Still the humming continued for a few more seconds.

"Place your hands upon my temples, Elrond." The woman's voice brought his attention back to the mountains.

"Pardon?"

"Stand behind me and place both your hands upon my temples."

Before he did as she had asked, Elrond gave Gandalf and Elrohir a swift and questioning glance and found their features registering the same bewilderment..

Elrond placed each hand upon the cyborg's temples as she instructed, and could never in an age have been prepared for what he next experienced.  
Knowing that this being had an exceptionally strong and powerful mind, 3170 knew that Elrond would be able to endure the connection she would make with him. She felt his uneasiness and spoke again in a more placid tone.

"Close your eyes and remain silent, Elrond."

3170 focused her powerful integrated binocular with telescopic vision upon the feathered creature and brought it closer in sight, very rapidly. Making sure the Elf was still with her, she zoomed in even further.

Elrond did as she asked then nearly stumbled back in disbelief. As the image , came into extremely sharp focus and closeness, he felt awestruck at the view of this tiny creature, nestled among the branches of the massive tree. When he thought that this feat ended the exercise, the bird became even closer in his sight until the entire creature was no longer visible.

His vision became flooded with the brilliant yellow and amber coloring of its feathers and then, nearly immediately thereafter, the view was brought even deeper against the body of the avian. He now scrutinized the bird's cream-colored skin, otherwise hidden from view by its feathers. So in-depth to the tiniest detail; 3170 had taken him past his own phenomenal sight, that Elrond thought his eyes would roll out of their sockets,

"Enough, 3170! Cease this action!"

Quickly, she retracted the extreme telescopic sight back to her normal, yet incredible level of vision.

"Sweet Elbereth!" gasped Elrond as he slowly lowered his hands, squeezing his eyes tightly shut and pinching the bridge of his nose.

Elrohir and Gandalf were impatient to know what it was that Elrond had beheld. Hesitating, he shook his head upon reopening his eyes saying, "It is an impossibility to describe. I saw the flesh of that tiny creature. Past what the Elven sight is capable of…"

"Either or both of you may experience that which Elrond has witnessed, if you wish."

Elf and wizard glanced quickly at each other, with the Maia stepping forward first. She replayed the same exercise with the elder and, again with Elrohir. When he had stepped back in disbelief, she turned to face the three dumbfounded males.

"Do you now believe me, Elrond?" Her voice was slightly condescending, knowing that she now had the upper hand.

"Yes. Yes, quite. What we have beheld is not possible for the Second born, and I would never have believed such to be a possibility, if I had not beheld this for myself," he voiced quietly as he held her gaze.

3170 arched a brow at his statement.

"What is…Second Born?"

A smirk graced the Elf-lord's lips as he answered, "It is another way of describing the Children of Men."

3170 clenched her jaw tightly, glaring back at him. But, instead of the response Elrond would have thought she would give, she surprised him.

She returned the slight smirk saying, "I was not born, Elrond."

Gandalf choked on a puff of his pipe weed and Elrohir gaped at her in disbelief, sinking slowly to a nearby cot.

"You were not born, m'lady?" the wizard snorted. "All creatures, even the foulest of Orc and Goblin, are born. For the love of Arda!"

Elrond and his son remained in stunned silence as yet another revelation was revealed to them.

"That is what I clearly stated. I was not born. My species does not pass through the primitive act of birth. We undergo the process of emergence."

"And…" began Elrond as he came around the table to stand by her side. "…What does this process entail, if its end is not birth?"

Elrohir had made his way to the woman's left side and stood with arms crossed over his chest, giving the cyborg a most incredulous look through piercing gray eyes. If 3170 were capable of laughter, she would have burst out at the seams. Instead, all she could muster was a sly smile and a low snort.

"You would not understand the …" she paused for a moment, her face passive as a stone, as she searched the vast database she had complied to date of the elvish tongue, struggling to find the proper word in Sindarin to describe the subject of discussion.

Biology, science, technology, mechanizations, scholarship...

Her mind strained to find an equivalent to science and came up empty. The blank look upon her face brightened and she refocused her eyes upon those around her.

"Suffice to say that we do not pass through the stages of childhood or adolescence. We emerge from our chambers as an adult, equivalent in age to 26 solar years."

"How do you suckle, nurse? How are you sustained as you approach your majority?" asked a bewildered Elrohir before his father could respond.

"We are enclosed in a…metal…chamber, and suspended in a nutrient rich broth that sustains the biological, electrical and mechanical needs of our form. It is absorbed through our flesh and processed within." She replied matter-of-fact .

Silence had fallen with the last of her words leaving her lips. The three males simply stood and stared in pure bewilderment, all trying to process this new information.

This would answer several questions that had left Elrond baffled after he had joined with her mind. This would also explain the fact that there was no childhood to speak of in her memory. He reviewed this exploration for a moment, recalling each detail. He frowned slightly. There were no familial bonds or gatherings present either.

Returning his attention to the woman he asked, "So…It takes 26 years for you to go through this process, then?"

"It does not. The process is completed in one solar year."

Three gasps went up and the room was plunged into silence once more. 3170 waited patiently for the shock of her latest statement to wane, observing the three males squirming in discomfort before her.

"How does one er…emerge when this process is complete, if I may be so bold to ask?" voiced Gandalf cautiously, breaking the silence.

"When the process is terminated, the chamber is drained slowly, taking a full day to empty. An air mixture is slowly pumped into the vessel to awaken our lungs. The chamber is finally breached and we begin our existence."

"There is no instruction, no training, no learning of any kind given? You just emerge and go on about living?" asked the wizard, though his question contained the obvious hint of disbelief he knew she expected to hear, Gandalf found his thoughts deep and disturbing. To even Elrond, an elf of considerable knowledge, her tale of "emergence" could incite an air of incredulity, but the old maia was not so easily over set.

Though he did not completely understand the process she described, he did ponder other such instances of creation that were above and beyond procreating. Did not the Eldar awake on the banks of the Cuiviénen with just the song of the One? Had not the Elves imbued inanimate objects with spirit and thought? What she said of her birth was hard to imagine even to his wizened knowledge, but, he did not consider it an impossibility. However, he schooled his features, determined to learn more. For even though the First Born had been made by loving hands, the Belegûr had indeed subscribed his own methods of creating life, and his purpose was solely evil. For which purpose had this woman been designed? He knew he must listen, and find out.  
She turned her eagle-eyes upon him sharply. Observing her silent perusal, his mind closed off to her penetrating awareness. She wondered that he did not believe her, and truthfully she thought she didn't care.

"On the contrary, Mithrandir. As we mature, we are undergoing continuous programming and given all the instructions to begin our lives once we emerge. Each of my species is given the knowledge of the known universe that they require, and we continue this programming throughout our existence, even after emergence. We come forth fully trained and functional in the art of weaponry and warfare. We are able to fight within moments of taking our first breaths."

"I have heard enough! 'Tis all balderdash, I say!" snapped Elrohir rising, glaring angrily at the woman who remained calm and poised, totally unaffected by the out burst.

"Ionn…please…" pleaded Elrond softly, putting a hand upon his son's shoulder. Elrohir huffed and then pinned his cool stare on 3170, still glaring at the woman.

"Please, m'lady. Will you continue?" asked Elrond softly, as he touched her arm lightly and guided her toward the cot.

When she was situated Elrond said, "You must excuse our skepticism. This is all quite amazing to all of us." She nodded slightly, eying the composed and aloof Maia with an arched brow.

As if he could not yet allow the subject to dissemble, Elrohir continued to query her. His irritated tone was palpable.

"You were able to go into battle as soon as you drew breath for the first time? Never having fought before, or even having held a weapon?" He asked while trying to mask his incredulity by scratching the back of his neck and gazing at her quizzically.

"It takes many years to gain skill in warfare and the use of weapons, no matter the kind. Even the Eldar, who gift their offspring with vast knowledge and experience while in the womb do not come forth with the skill you so flippantly attest to being given in your design. I find it difficult to believe that you simply walked from your place of birt…er…emergence, took up arms and threw yourselves upon a battle field."

"Think what you wish, Elrohir. That is the way of my race. We are given all the preparation and instruction as we mature. Our individual functions and status among our kind are preconceived, and administered into our programming. We are fully prepared for all out combat and the rigors of life upon our release."

"And what was your function and status among your people?" asked Gandalf, roughly.

Turning her gaze toward the wizard she narrowed her eyes and nearly hissed her answer. "I am a Prime Alpha. Supreme Commander of a great army. My sole purpose was to seek out and destroy enemies of the Guardians, no matter their gender, race or age; in short, to kill, if integration of the enemy was not possible or, ordered not to be accommodated."

"You would kill children? The aged? Women and the helpless?" asked Elrohir in horror.

"Yes," the cyborg answered simply, staring straight at him, her face devoid of emotion.

"Yrch!" spat the younger Elf in disgust, turning away from the woman, and would have stormed from the healing chambers if Gandalf did not stop him.

"Peace, my friend. She said that it was her sole purpose at one time. That does not mean that this be the case presently." Gandalf's thoughts remained guarded, yet he knew he must contain the younger elf and return to the subject of her status.

Elrohir gaped at the elder. "You are telling me to be calm when you know that such behaviors are from the hand of evil? Do we not seek to annihilate those who do such things? Those are works brought by the shadow, no one kills without purpose unless they are driven by Him!"

'Yes, yes. I am more than aware of the threat of such evil...I know…but I am old and not without knowledge. We mustn't allow our wisdom of such things to cloud our ability to hear what she has to say, and understand it to best of our ability. I for one have a fondness for such things as this, tis a riddle perhaps, one we must solve. Now, sit and let us hear more of what the lady has to say, hmm?"

Elrohir reluctantly agreed and sat back down cursing under his breath, holding the cyborg's gaze coldly and without mercy .

"Please, continue m'lady. I believe you have yet to tell us of your status, yes?" asked Gandalf refilling his pipe and lighting it.

"I am the 3,170th cyborg, she paused contemplating a term that was informative regarding her form, … being of the lot of 5,000 to have been created at that time period. My full title is 3170 Prime Alpha 2195 A.D. S.Y."

Seeing the confused looks upon their faces she tried to clarify and explain her status in their language.

"'Alpha'…in a numerical sense is a designation of order, meaning first. I was one of five commanders in my emergent lot, and the prime commanding being of my spawn, having direct communications with the Guardians; the creators of my kind. The designation 2195 A.D.S.Y" She flippantly added the initials; they were after all part of her identity. "indicates the solar year of my emergence; near the latter part of the 22d century."

Elrond tried to make sense of all she had said and was finding it very difficult to do so. So far he now knew why she called herself 3170. If she were to remain among his people, and those of Middle-earth in general, her name would have to be changed. The names of the years were strange sounding and there would be no way for him to correlate Middle-earth time lines to her time and place. So, he did the only thing he thought would rectify the quandary.

"M'lady, what was the year in your time and realm when you came to us?"

"2495 A.D"

Elrond ignored the unfamiliar words and focused upon the numbers. He quickly calculated and came up with the number '300'. He froze in mid-thought. This woman was 300 years old? He blinked. Though she appeared to be of human origins it slowly registered that she was no mere mortal, he could sense she possessed none of the life force akin to the Eldar, for even though diluted he would have known instantly had she been of Elros' line. None of the descendants from the other known genealogies had the life span she boasted of having and this latest revelation confirmed his postulating, she was not of the Edain.

Breaking out of his mental ruminatings, he continued his previous thought process. He could now place her date or origination in Middle-earth terms. It was currently III 2988. If she were a native inhabitant of Middle-earth she would have come into being in the year III 2688. The Elf-lord mentally began to piece together a history for this creature, as questions would surely arise once it became known that she walked among his people.

As he and the others pondered all that this woman had spoken, Caladwen entered with the babe.

All four turned in her direction as she made her way across the chambers.

Elrond watched 3170 closely, observing her reaction and demeanor as the healer brought the child closer to the cyborg. Outwardly, 3170 showed no emotion, but the Elf-lord felt great uneasiness emanate from the woman.

"M'lady, would you care to hold the infant?" Caladwen's voice was soft and sincere and the cyborg startled into movement as she turned her head and gazed at the bundle in the Elleth's arms.

Elrond held his breath, hoping. "I do not wish to, no," voiced the woman, taking a subtle and unconscious step away. Elrond's shoulders slumped as he exhaled. This would take some doing. Clearly, the child had formed a bond with the creature, and needed her attention, but the cyborg was being stubborn and reticent. Elrond shook his head in frustration. Caladwen eyed Elrond questioningly, and then looked to Elrohir and Gandalf for support.

Elrohir reached for the child saying, "I shall take him Caladwen. You must take your rest, as you have not done so all of last eve."

Smiling, the healer placed the child in the young lord's arms and shot a scathing glare at the cyborg. Heartless, that was all she could politely describe this cold creature as being. Had she heard the previous conversation, she would have fled the chambers in horror.

Elrond also threw an incredulous glance at the woman, who stood motionless and inexpressive, gazing blankly back at the four. "M'lady, the child has obviously formed an attachment to you." He marshaled his irritation and directed her, "It is not a good thing to ignore the babe, 3170."

She turned her head slowly in Elrond's direction. "The youngling is not my concern. I have no knowledge in the care of such a being. The workings of humans are foreign to me."

Elrond's patience waned a bit more, as it had been inclined to do with each passing conversation he had with the woman about the infant, but he remained calm. After all, if what she said was true, the child could come to more harm than good in her care. Unifying the woman and child would have to progress slowly and under close supervision.

"As you say m'lady, for the moment it is understandable you have no interest in seeing to the child's needs as you have explained your function before was not in the role of nurturer," answered Elrond, moving to his son's side and gazing at the child.

Elrohir was less forgiving. "And a good thing, too. As all you know about the young is how to kill them…"

Elrond gazed in shock at his son's reply, together with Gandalf and Caladwen, as Elrohir made his way from the room and down the hall.

3170 arched a brow at the outburst and followed the younger elf with her eyes, as he disappeared around a bend down the hall. She then turned her attention back upon the group standing in muted silence before her.

"It is the truth that he speaks, Elrond," she voiced simply, turning gracefully back toward the balcony and stepping onto the stone portico.

Elladan had entered the chamber a moment before his twin left in a discomfited irritation. Knowing his brother's moods well, he stood off to the side and allowed the moment to pass. Then he strode fully into the room, and Elrond motioned for him to come to his side.

"Yes father?"

Speaking in Sindar, Elrond lowered his voice as he addressed his son. "Once the seamstress has finished her measurements and 3170 is dressed in temporary raiment, I would like you to take her on a tour of Imladris. Begin slowly. Allow her to feel comfortable with being away from these chambers. I need time to speak with your brother, and the others, away from her presence."

"She no longer poses a threat? Shall I stand down the guards?" Though his tone was placid, internally Elladan's worry was strong and forceful, he still viewed the woman as a possible risk.

"Of that I cannot yet be certain. You will take the guards with you. Seeing the odd emotional state in which she now finds herself, I cannot trust her to not do something rash."

Elladan nodded and turned his attention to the cyborg who was now being measured by the seamstress. 3170 regarded the elleth with a wary eye as the elf stretched a piece of cloth down her arms, across her shoulders and down her legs. Looking up questioningly, the woman said, "Of what practice is this? And what purpose does this action serve?"

Caladwen giggled a bit then said, "You are being measured for clothing, m'lady. All in Imladris must wear garments. Tis a thing of modesty."

The cyborg squinted and pursed her lips at the healer, finding it strange that these people put so much effort into covering their bodies. What was the problem with not having attire? With the exception of actively fighting, she and her kind went without such accouterments more often than not, as they regenerated and took nourishment during their rare rest periods. She tilted her head slightly as she looked down at the seamstress, who nudged her to spread her feet slightly so that she could take the inseams. "This is most illogical," snorted the cyborg, as the seamstress, all of her measuring done, rose and made her way from the rooms.

"It is a necessity, I am afraid, my dear. The integrity of the Hidden Valley depends upon you remaining clothed…" Gandalf chuckled as he came to her side. "It has come to me that you have a great dislike of coverings adorning your form, no matter the kind."

She waived her hand in the air slightly. "We have little need or use for such things, when not fighting. But if this is how you go about things in this land, I shall need to abide, to keep the peace it would seem. However…"

She turned to face the Maia and the others. "…As the need arises I shall be required to resort to such state of undress, for regeneration and occasional nourishment. Of this I ask respect."

Elrond nodded saying, "I understand completely, 3170. We only ask that you will abide by such customs for the benefit and comfort of my people. What you do in the privacy of your own chambers is of your own accord. We shall attempt to facilitate your needs, as best that we are able, seeing as they are quite different from our own."

She nodded in thanks and looked toward the cot where clothing had been left for her. Elrond eyed his son, the healer and Gandalf, indicating that they should leave her to dressing.

"We shall leave you to yourself, m'lady so that you may dress. Elladan shall return presently to escort you throughout some of Imladris. It will give you an idea of what your new home is like."

She nodded in acknowledgment and then turned her attention back to eying the clothing in a quandary. Elrond chuckled as he watched her pick up one piece of clothing, scrutinize it carefully and then pick up another, looking between the two articles, trying to make sense of how the blessed things were to be worn.

"Elladan, before you leave…" He motioned for his son to remain a moment then gestured for the others to come closer. 3170 watched them warily as they huddled around her in a loose circle.

Elrond reached out his hand to the cyborg which she took hesitantly. "M'lady, no longer can the title 3170 be used by you or any in your presence. Such naming would raise too many questions and suspicion as to your true origins."

She tilted her head slightly staring at the Elf-lord passively, awaiting the rest of his statement. Elrond looked to Caladwen who came forth and stood before the cyborg.

"M'lady, we have been pondering a name for you and we believe that we have come up with something very well suited to your…um…" she looked to Elrond who urged her to continue. "…A name that would express something unique to your being. Elrond asked me to put such a name before you and to ask your approval."

3170, blinked. A name? They wished to give her a name?

"I am known as 3170 A…"

Elrond raised his hand slightly. "Peace, m'lady. In your world that is what you were known by. I am certain that if I was in the same position as you, and in your world, my name would be looked upon strangely when invoked, would it not?"

She nodded slowly.

"Very well then, will you allow Caladwen to continue?"

She looked at the healer and nodded.

"I have thought of the name "Anariel" - Of the Sun. Do you approve?"

3170 rolled the strange new word over her tongue. 'Anariel.' It was pleasant sounding though strange to her ears. She turned her gaze to Elrond.

"For 300 years I have known no other title than 3170. I realize and accept the fact that I must adapt to this new world I now find myself within."

She turned her eagle-eyes upon the healer and put a hand lightly upon her shoulder. Even though the cyborg's hand lay gently upon her, Caladwen could feel the great strength the woman possessed nonetheless. "I find the term satisfactory."

Caladwen beamed and looked to Elrond who smiled. "From this moment onward, you shall be known as Anariel until the end of your days. We shall speak more of this and your history here in Middle Earth at a later time."

Anariel gazed at Elrond questioningly saying, "I have no history here…"

"In several days, you shall," replied Elrond with a small smile. "Come all, let us leave Anariel to dressing."

Elrond ushered the group out of the room and left the newly named cyborg to herself.

Making his way to Elrohir's room, Elrond mulled the cyborg's words over in his mind. Her sole purpose and creation was to kill, and with little or no thought. Not much unlike Sauron's minions. Would he be able to trust this creature? Would anyone for that matter? Was it such a good idea to try and unite her with the babe? Or would it be better to find the child a good home within a village of Men? These thoughts and others swirled through Elrond's mind as he approached his son's chamber door. Knocking, he was greeted with a beaming Elrohir and a chortling infant. Elrond chuckled.

"He seems to have taken to you rather well, my son," voiced the elder as he moved past his son and sank into the soft cushions of a chaise in the center of the room.

"Yes. It would seem, father." His brow furrowed as he remembered the cyborg's words. "I cannot fathom the coldness of that woman. How could she kill, destroy with little consciousness? She is like the Orcs and no better," he spat, breaking into a smile as the child grasped for a strand of his hair.

"Elrohir, you must understand that she is what she is. Even our own kind struggled with nonsensical killing, think of the kinslayers and their great oath over possession of the silmarils. They too killed with a raging bloodlust." Elrond paused, his mind returning to that memory in the cave. He could easily recall the glassy eyes of that flame haired warrior as he entered the mouth of their hiding place intent on wiping out the lives of two young elflings. Yes, he had seen such carnage in his time. So far his own sons had not witnessed such mindless killing as that. 

"There are great changes taking place within her, and I would like you to give her the benefit of the doubt. She may not have the same disposition as she did before emerging through the Veil of Stars. Her behavior may harbor her lack of emotional makeup but there is a glimmer of change there as well. She has some feelings for this child, son. I can see this, though it may be shrouded from your eyes and those of the others. She must be allowed to come to her own realization that she is not the creature that she once was."

Elrohir was listening to his father with eyes down cast, lips pursed and brow furrowed. Elrond placed a hand upon his son's shoulder saying, "All I ask is that you give her time. And support. I know this is difficult for you to do, seeing how her words have affected how you now think of her, but please. Try."

Elrohir raised his head and gazed stoically at his father. "I will do as you ask, father, but it will do little to change my feelings for her at this time."

Elrond sighed casting his eyes to his feet. "Think of my situation, if not for the intervention of Maglor, I would not be here this day he was able to find compassion for the innocent, perhaps she will as well. That is all I can ask of you, my son, give her a chance to learn. She is undergoing changes strange to her kind, Elrohir. The least we can do is have a bit of consideration and understating of her plight."

Elrohir snorted in anger. "Her plight. There is no similarity to the Feanorians, there is no curse she is bound to act upon. She is a killer of children and the helpless! How am I to render her such feelings of kindness, father? She is a beast, no better than the foul Orc and Goblin. She is of the same in makeup as those who tore your wife and my mother from us!"

He looked down upon the infant now sleeping peacefully in his arms. "And this child pays the price. That woman has no soul, father. No heart. I refuse to believe she will change for the better. No matter the outcome, I shall always think of her as such."

"She saved the child's life, Elrohir. Does this not show that there is hope for her yet?" Elrond's tone is what, how is he looking?

"We know only what she has told us. There is no proof that she saved him from anything. Only that she came to us with the child." The young elf replied in exasperation. Elrond took in a breath and let it out slowly. He rose and clasped his son's shoulder. "Then it is for the sake of this child that I ask you to have patience with the woman."

Elrohir rose with his father, a coldness in his eyes. "I shall do so only because you ask, and for the fact that you possess far more wisdom than I. However, do not expect me to like such an arrangement."

"If you can muster some semblance of civility in her presence, I shall consider it a minor victory, son. What we can do without is visible acts of malice and anger. You must promise me this."

Elrohir bowed slightly to his father, with his hand upon his heart. Elrond squeezed Elrohir's shoulder again and the younger elf watched the elder as he made his way down the hall to his own chambers.

He looked down at the babe in his arms whispering, "And this is to be your naneth, little one, should father have a say…Valar I pray his insight is true." He shook his head, silently closed the door and returned to the chaise and his goblet of wine.

Elladan waited for Anariel to emerge from the healing chambers. As she did so, she threw a scathing glance at the two guards that stood without. The Elf-lord snickered, wondering how it would be when she realized that they were to follow them as they toured his homeland.

Before they made eye contact, Elladan was able to observe the woman, dressed in the finery of his kind first hand. She struck an imposing figure in the long amber colored gown, and golden crushed velvet cloak that draped her tall and graceful figure. She was taller than his sister, Arwen, by about two inches but no less graceful. She reminded him of a sinuous cat, a perfect hunter, one that would not wish to be met in the shadows. Yet she was lovely at the same time. She did not possess ravishing beauty in the elvish sense, but a raw and wild comeliness. Meeting his eyes, she began to slowly walk in his direction, her feet barely seeming to touch the floor.

As she drew near, Elladan extended his arm which she looked at curiously. He gently took her hand and placed it over his arm saying, "Males and females walk together in this fashion, m'lady. If this feels uncomfortable, you do not need to do such if you do not desire."

She studied the arrangement of their arms for a few moments then met his gaze. "It is acceptable."

Her speech was clipped and direct but held no trace of the raspyness that plagued her voice just two days ere. He glanced over at her as they walked, and noted that she was subtly taking in all that was visible around her, from the torches upon the walls, to the tapestries, to the columns and flower arrangements. Yet, her head did not shift either right or left. She looked straight ahead and remained silent.

"Please feel free to ask questions about anything you see or hear. I will be more than gladdened to answer all," voiced Elladan lowly, trying to make conversation. Her silence was unusual for a mortal and he was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable.

"I shall," was her simple reply.

Huh…rather tight lipped this one was. She reminded him of Arwen. As he began to regret the task given him by his father, Anariel stopped abruptly. Elladan would have ended up careening into her were it not for his Elven grace. He blinked several times then looked at the woman. She stood stock still and appeared to be focusing her attention on something in the gardens outside the hall's windows.

"What is that creature?" she questioned flatly, pointing to a doe that was grazing serenely at the edge of a tranquil pool.

"It is a deer, m'lady. A doe. The female of its kind."

"Deer," she repeated and seemed to go into deep thought for a moment. Suddenly, she began speaking in a clipped and mechanical tone:

Classification:  
Phylum: Chordata Class: Mammalia Order: Artiodactyla Family: Cervidae Genus: Odocoileinae

Odocoileus virginianus…White-tailed Deer. This life form is extinct in my world."

Elladan stood mutely by her side, not knowing what she had just said, and not quite certain of what his response should be. Resuming their walk, she queried him "Are there many of these deer in this world of yours?"

"Yes Anariel. They are quite plentiful. They sustain the needs of our people and those of the other races that inhabit Middle-earth."

"You consume these creatures?"

"Ah…yes. We do indeed."

She stopped again but this time Elladan was prepared. "And how does one go about doing such a thing?"

"Go about…doing what?" he asked not quite certain of her meaning.

She turned sharply toward him. "How does one go about consuming these animals? They do not simply arrive at your doorstep I assume…nor do they willingly jump into your bellies…"

He blinked. "We hunt them." He stated matter-of-fact.

"How is this done?"

Elladan now felt as though he were entertaining an elfling. The answers to her questions were so obvious to him that he wondered if the intelligence his father spoke of regarding this strange visitor was in err.

"Are you not a hunter yourself?" Knowing a bit of her purpose as a warrior, it was easy to relate the two actions. The similarities of seeking prey whether in battle, or for gathering food for nourishment, were exigent. They both required the same end, death.

She thought a moment. "I suppose I am in a sense, but we do not consume those which we hunt."

Elladan coughed into his hand. "I should hope to the Valar that you do not, Anariel." He cleared his throat. "I was merely using this as an analogy to hunting deer. We track them for a time and then shoot them with our bows."

"Bows?"

Oh Elbereth! I have begun yet another unwanted tangent of conversation and brought on the tedious need for instruction." Thought the Elf-lord with mounting frustration as he replied, "It is one of the many weapons we use for our needs."

Her eyes widened as she waited for him to extrapolate. Instead he replied to her unspoken question.

"M'lady, I will be more than happy to take you to the archery fields, where we hone our skill with the bow, a bit later to explain all to you, regarding the hunting of deer. For now, may we continue the tour of the grounds and mayhap take in a bit of lunch?"

She looked blankly at him. "Lunch?"

Elladan nearly whimpered. He briskly took up her hand and placed it back upon his arm, and hurried them both toward the feasting hall. "Yes, lunch. And a great many goblets of wine if I am able…"

She arched her brow at this statement and wondered how any of these people could function with the amount of alcohol they all seemed to consume, no matter the time of day.

As they entered the hall, Elladan was relieved to see his brother seated next to Erestor, and moved to his side. Elrohir frowned when he saw who accompanied his brother, and was about to take his leave when Elladan shot him a pleading glance. Before Elrohir could reply, Erestor addressed his brother and the cyborg.

"And who is this lovely creature, Elladan? For I have not seen her before this wondrous day." He smirked at the forlorn look that Elladan wore, then finished, "I would never have guessed that you would be able to capture the attention of such a beauty."

Smooth as ever…you silver-tongued minion of Mordor… voiced Elladan to Erestor in his mind.

The elder Elf nearly choked in laughter over the young lord's obviously embarrassed appearance. As he watched the younger elf assist the woman to a place at the table between him and Elrohir, he noted an uneasiness that all but shouted discomfiture at the situation.

You must tell me the story behind your catch, young one replied the elder, eying the woman curiously.

You know naught of what you ask, Erestor, for it is more than you are prepared to bargain for. This I can assure you

Indeed? Well then, I shall inquire at length…another time perhaps, when you are not so…emotional snickered the archivist, as he turned his attention to the lady at his side and introduced himself, before Elladan could do the honors himself.

"Greetings, m'lady. I am Erestor, historian and archivist for the fair lands of Imladris." He froze as soon as he spoke, seeing her eyes for the first time. "I must say, you have the most….…unique eyes I have ever beheld," the historian nearly stuttered.

Anariel gazed blankly at the Elf, having no idea what she was supposed to do in response. Erestor looked first to Elladan then to Elrohir before returning his bewildered gaze to the woman.

Elladan rolled his eyes and took it upon himself to introduce the woman, knowing that yet another barrage of questions would stream forth if he did not. He ignored the statement about her eyes. "Allow me to introduce Anariel, a new arrival to Imladris."

He then snorted in annoyance and silently replied, And, she is not my…catch…as you so eloquently put it…I am merely…entertaining her company for the present…

Ah. was the historian's only reply.

Elrohir was a bit stunned at the title his counterparts bestowed upon the woman.

Anariel? he questioned his brother.

Elladan nodded saying, Yes. Anariel. Father and Caladwen have given her such title.

Elrohir shot the woman a sideways glance but remained silent, as servants brought out the mid-day meal. Anariel furrowed her brow as a steaming plate of delectables was placed before her, and she looked to the brothers questioningly.

Apparently her unusual eating habits, or lack thereof, were momentarily forgotten by the brothers, as they attempted to coax the woman into trying the fare before her.

"Come Anariel. Tis a delicious meal this day. You must try it," goaded Erestor, not knowing her habits. It was then that the twins remembered that she had stated her method of nourishment earlier. To cover this fact Elladan subtly pointed to the fork and knife by the side of her plate, and motioned for her to try and eat something. She gave him a scathing glare and began, "I do not…" Elrohir placed a hand upon her arm signaling silence, then leaned next to her ear saying, "You must give the appearance of enjoying the meal, m'lady. We have erred in remembering your eating preferences. Pick up the utensil and at least feign that you do so."

She whispered back, "…And how does one use such implements? What is done with the contents of this vessel?" she gestured to the plate and cutlery in front of her.

Elrohir gaped at her in shock and surprise but recovered quickly and unnoticed. "You are saying that you have never consumed a meal in such fashion?" he nearly hissed his whisper in her ear. She shook her head curtly in the negative.

"Not even ….once?" Again, she shook her head.

"Valar!" he rasped, "Observe…and learn." He voiced lowly, taking up his own fork and knife, cutting a piece of meat on his plate and stabbing at it with his fork. He then placed the morsel in his mouth and began chewing.

"It is done in this fashion." he whispered. "Now, you do the same."

"I am not in need of nourishment at this time, Elrohir…and my system cannot process…"

The Elf lost all patience and hissed through clenched teeth. "Eat. We shall discuss this later. For now…humor me!" He reached for her fork, took her hand and placed the utensil within its grasp. Then picking up her knife, he did the same. She glared at him but emulated him as she was bidden. When she had cut the meat she looked at the Elf questioningly. He raised his hand to his mouth, indicating that she do the same. She appeared to grimace and placed the fork at her lips, hesitated for a few moments, then placed the morsel in her mouth and closed it. She looked to the Elf once more and he leaned over and whispered, "Chew."

Seeing that her mouth was full, she was unable to answer that she could not do so; that she had never done so. Chew, whatever kind of action did that command imply? Watching him, she noted how his jaw moved up and down, side to side. Was that how one 'chew' this thing in her mouth? She closed her eyes and clamped down upon the offending and foreign item that lay between her teeth. She swallowed part of it, and nearly choked but was able to control herself. The Elf would pay dearly for this, she thought to herself.

Erestor had been silently observing the antics of the two by his side and was more than curious about this new arrival. He would question Elrond first chance that he got regarding this bewitching creature. Elrohir noted Erestor's scrutiny of the woman and abruptly stood saying, "We shall take our leave, my brother," he shifted his gaze and nodded toward Erestor who returned it. The lady is not feeling well presently. Please excuse our departure." Elrohir gathered all of his poise, trying to smooth over what could have become an embarrassing moment for them all. And his father's words came back to him. He sighed.

All rose as Elrohir helped Anariel from the table and hurried her from the hall. As soon as they were out of the public eye, Anariel wrested her arm from the Elf and glared long and hard at him. Elrohir knew this was coming and was well prepared for her wrath.

Before she could lay into him he raised his hands before him. "Peace Anariel. Peace. You must forgive me. I had momentarily forgotten that such is not your nature. At the time, it was a necessity that you do as we all did for, we can not yet arouse suspicion to your origins and persona. Forgive me for what I have put you through." His voice was clipped, filled with cynicism and guile.

Anariel's glare softened somewhat and this new emotion of rage passed away quickly. She would need to control this new feeling the most of all the new sensations she was experiencing. She would need to query the Elf regarding that which just passed through her.

Turning toward a clump of bushes, she spit out the remnants of what still remained in her mouth. To her displeasure it had clumped and turned soggy and she could just not figure out how to swallow it. "If I were to become ill, this is the closest to such a feeling that I have ever experienced in 300 years of existence," she growled, glaring heatedly at Elrohir.

"What is the purpose of such an act?" she seethed, wiping her mouth on her sleeve and looking to a small pool filled with a fluid she had never before seen, to rinse her mouth out. Be it acid or otherwise, she cared not. She would analyze its properties later. Her aim at this very moment was to rid herself of this abhorent substance. She walked to the edge of the water and knelt, scooping a handful of the clear liquid to her mouth, swishing it around for a few seconds and spitting it out. "RHESSTCH!" she cursed in her language, as she repeated the act until the foul taste had gone.

Elrohir felt terrible as he watched her, feeling slightly guilty for having caused her this upset. But, at the same time, he also felt a twinge of satisfaction that he had caused her discomfort, seeing that she was a cold blooded killer after all. He shook that thought from his mind upon hearing her cough. Always acting on his ingrained noble heritage he walked to her side and extended his hand to assist her in standing. She glared at his hand and brushed it away saying, "I am perfectly capable of standing, Elrohir."

He quickly withdrew his hand saying, "M'lady," bowing his head slightly and hiding a snicker.

"The purpose of taking in such delicacies is for nourishment, Anariel. That is the purpose."

She threw him an admonishing glance. "Yes, yes. I am quite well aware of your need for such intake. My question to you is what purpose does such an act to nourish oneself serve, to cut and chew your sustenance? It seems to be highly inefficient, time consuming and a great expenditure of energy. We hardly could spare the time and effort to draw nourishment in this fashion. Half of my army would be destroyed should we cease our marches and partake of such acts."

Elrohir arched a brow at her statement, as he gazed upon her in near contempt. "Meals to us serve several purposes, Anariel. Not only do we draw needed strength from that which we consume, but we are also gathering with friends and loved ones to socialize. We renew our ties with those around us. It is a way for us to reaffirm our bonds with one another, and hold company with those with which we reside."

"Socialize?" she quipped flatly. "Why would one wish to do such a thing? Such actions are illogical and inefficient use of one's time, serving no useful purpose that I can see."

It was at this point that Elrohir fully lost his tenuous composure. "You carry on about the use of time, illogical this, inefficient that." He drew his face closer to the woman. "Mayhap if your kind used their time more productively, for the benefit of others and the downtrodden, and held an ounce of regret for your abominable actions, instead of murdering the helpless, you would understand the value of culture, family and the social graces!" he nearly hissed in her face, then turned crisply upon his heel and stormed back into the dining hall.

Anariel was left gazing after his retreating form, not quite certain of what had just transpired or why he became so…emotional. She shook her head, took in a deep breath and turned in the opposite direction, having no idea where to go or what to do. She just began walking. 


	7. Chapter 7

Another heartfelt thanks goes out to KEEK once more for a fantastic beta job. Sweetie you surprised me with having this chapter ready so soon. Hugs and get well soonish!

Anariel made her way around the beautiful buildings that made up the Elven homeland, noticing in particular the lush gardens, the dense orchards, and the sprawling fields. All was so new and strange to her, as her own lands were devoid of such things.

Well aware of the two guards that followed her at a respectful distance, since she and Elrohir had left the dining hall, she strolled on but paid them no mind. She continued her exploration, taking in the woods, streams and waterfalls. She had never seen stands of trees before, or the rushing of this aqueous substance. She paused in her walk and focused upon the forest. Her keen senses picked up strange noises, scents and movements, all of which were unfamiliar and greatly interesting to her. This place, even from a distance appeared dark and foreboding, yet she did not sense danger. She began to move toward the woods when something caught her eye in the meandering, rushing water that passed by her side.

Never having seen a stream before, she engaged her tactile senses and bent into a crouching position, hesitantly reached her hand toward the frothing liquid. The shock of cold cracked through her hand and she pulled back quickly, examining her palm and fingers. Seeing that it caused no harm, and that it was only wet, she then held her fingers just above its surface, analytically sampling the strange substance. The results of her analysis came up with H2O and various trace metals and minerals that comprised what her research told her was water.

So, this was water? Though it took a different form, here the temperature being much colder, was rushing and frothing, it was the same substance she had encountered in the gardens while walking with Elrohir earlier. Satisfied with her experiment, this time she broke the surface with boldness and retrieved that which had initially grabbed her attention near the edge of the stream bed. It was a glittering pebble of some sort, imbedded in a dark matrix. She lifted it to her eyes and scanned it thoroughly. She pursed her lips as she lifted the object into the fading sunlight. It was perfectly clear, unoccluded, and the reflected spectrum of light bloomed into a small rainbow against her wrist. "Interesting…" she voiced to herself, rotating the item in the light. The information poured in as she analyzed the object…an image forming within her mind...

_General Category: Native Nonmetal  
Mineral Formula: Carbon, C _

Identification Color: Most often colorless to yellow or brown. Rarely pink, orange, green or blue.

Habit: Octahedral, spherical or massive  
System Isometric Cleavage: Octahedral; perfect and easy

Fracture: Conchoidal  
Hardness: 10   
Luster: Adamantine to greasy  
RI (Refractive Index): 2.417   
Pleochroism: None  
Streak: None  
SG: 3.516 - 3.525   
Fusibility: Burns above 800°C  
Solubility: Resistant to acids

Major varieties (denoting toughness)

Ballas: Spherical, radial structure, cryptocrystalline, opaque black

Bort: Poorly-formed, cryptocrystalline, shapeless, translucent

Carbonado: Massive, microcrystalline, opaque black

Current specimen type: Carbonado - Massive, microcrystalline, opaque black, exceptional toughness, polycrystalline

Used for deep-drilling bits and other demanding industrial applications

Good electrical insulator; good conductor of heat due to strong covalent bonding within the crystal. High thermal conductance allows its use in semiconductor manufacture to prevent silicon and other semiconducting materials from overheating.

She squeezed it between her fingers, thereby initiating a load that would normally be applied by the Vickers Hardness Test. The matrix the crystal was embedded within crumbled away immediately and the calculations streamed…

Usually such materials when subjected to such force crumbled due to her great strength, but this crystalline specimen did not give way in the least.

She blinked. She ran the calcs once more for good measure. There was no mistaking it. The substance was raw diamond. Could come to good use, she thought, as she dropping the stone into the edge of her garment and looked to the stream once more. She would need to revisit this area again, that was a certainty.

She scanned everything in sight from that moment onward as nearly every object she encountered was riveting for her and her mind categorized and digitized each substance as if it were to be used for military purposes. One never knew the value of something until it was needed, she thought. Rising, she continued to make her way to the edge of the forest, followed by the two sentries, who were growing more nervous by the moment, the closer she got to the tree line.

She moved among the trunks, touching the rough bark and utilizing her senses nigh to their limits, paying no heed to the fact that the day drew onward and that it was nearly dusk before the guards warily approached the woman.

"M'lady, 'tis nearly the evening star's hour. Allow us to escort you back to the Homely House if you will."

Anariel gazed coolly at the two Elves who stood uncomfortably in silence, awaiting her reply.

"I do not wish to return at this time, as I have not been outside since arriving here. I find buildings confining."

She stood rooted in place, arms akimbo, almost daring them to advance, yet the firm set of her jaw warned them she was yet ready to be told what to do next.

Both guards glanced at each other nervously, and one turned to gage the distance they were from the lord's house. Darkness was falling rapidly and they did not wish to bring the wrath of Master Elrond upon their heads by either losing sight of their strange charge, or worse having her escape as dusk approached. 

Meanwhile, Elrond was grilling Elrohir about Anariel's whereabouts and Elladan was standing by the mantel watching in concealed amusement.

"…And how could you just leave her to herself? She knows these grounds not. No matter that the guards were with her!"

"Forgive me father. I was greatly angered. I did not think…" voiced Elrohir lowly, not able to look his father in the eye.

Elrond sighed and glanced out the window, squinting into the descending darkness. He breathed a sigh of relief as he spied the woman and guards making their way toward the Homely House. Her rigid gate and the grim look of annoyance gracing her features, told him that she only returned because she chose to do so, not because she was bidden by her unwelcomed companions.

He looked back at his brooding son. He moved to his side and put his hand on the younger Elf's shoulder. Elrohir looked up in surprise, not expecting this show of gentleness after the verbal thrashing.

Elrond lowered his voice softening his tone this time. "Elrohir. Son, I understand your feelings, however, please, promise me that you will try to curb your anger in the future? She is different. You must keep this in mind. You cannot judge her outside of her own realm." He sighed taking a seat by his son's side. 

Continuing on, Elrond spoke again. The words held a dearth of emotion at the carnage he had witnessed in those brief moments they had shared. "Her world is so very different than ours. Unless you have beheld it as I have, through her eyes, you cannot imagine the brutality that existed, that does exist, in her world."

Elrohir grimaced, withholding an angry snort of defiance, and closed his eyes, then opened them slowly meeting the gaze of his father. "All I ask of you ion, is that you give her a chance, give her time to adjust and come to understand our world. And most of all, judge her not."

A muscle involuntarily twitched in Elrohir's jaw, his facial features clearly displaying his disdain. Diffusing his anger simply to show respect and keep the peace, he answered his father with restrained calm.

"Adar, as you say, I will refrain from casting judgment upon her, and will strive to recall the lessons of diplomacy ingrained within my fea." He then firmly set his jaw in silence.

As they conversed, the guards and Anariel stepped into the study. All three looked up as the woman stepped across the threshold and stood near the end of the chaise where Elrohir and Elrond sat. Elladan came to her side and led her to a chair opposite his father and brother, and then took a seat next to her.

"Think about all that we have spoken of," Elrond finished quietly as he stood and held his son's stare. Their eyes met, the message was clear in his tight gaze, Elrohir would be expected to act the noble regardless of how he felt. Turning to the woman Elrond said, "Please forgive our leaving you to your own devices this afternoon, Anariel. I believe that Elrohir wishes to speak with you about that error." Elrohir looked up in surprise and then a steely expression of determination spread across his face. 

Elrond chuckled, quickly attempting to reduce the tension in his son. He smiled reassuringly then continued. "I trust that, despite this incident, you enjoyed your walk?"

Anariel had been studying Elrohir since the moment she entered the room. The Elf shifted a bit under the heat of her intense gaze. Even as she addressed his father she continued her fierce scrutiny of him. 

"Yes, the guards made certain I was…comfortable," she quipped, finally looking up at Elrond.

"If I was aware of my brother's rude conduct, m'lady, I would have continued the tour of our fair land," voiced Elladan with a hint of admonishment mingled with humor, as he rose and stood by his father.

Turning to Elladan, Elrond whispered, "I believe these two have much to discuss."

His son nodded and Elrond turned to Anariel with a slight bow. "M'lady," then to Elrohir. "My son. I shall be in the library if you have need of me." Both he and Elladan gracefully left the two in a silence that reigned for quite a while.

Elrohir sat stone-faced and in discomfort under the eagle-eyed assiduity of the cyborg's sharp stare, which was incessant. He was quite certain that she was sizing him up for a verbal jousting but she remained ever silent. Finally he could stand her glaring no longer and broke the sullenness of the moment.

"Anariel, are you willing to speak with me?"

She raised her chin and pursed her lips in a rare show of facial expression, locking her eyes with his. "Yes," she replied curtly.

The Elf took a breath, rose and came to sit by her side. "Anariel," he began, uncertain of how he was going to make amends for his atrocious behavior, and squelch the abhorrent feelings he still felt toward her.

"M'lady, I ask for your absolution regarding my less than honorable behavior this afternoon." 

The weight of his conflicting feelings bore down on him, and he spoke with his head bowed and his hands clasped over his knees. Though when he looked up at her before continuing on, his implacable resolve returned and he faced her fully with chin held high, his piercing gray eyes stormy under his perplexing thoughts.

"There is much…" He paused, took in a breath as he determined which words better described his feelings. "There are many things about you that ….unsettle me and, I cannot speak for my father or brother…or Caladwen for that matter, however…." Standing abruptly, he began pacing, hands clasped behind his back.

"Your blunt answer to my questioning of your actions against….others…in your world has left me bereft of kind feelings toward you and your kind. I cannot help the way in which I feel and I wish it were not so, for…" He hesitated a bit before continuing. Then he threw back his shoulders and clamped down on the rising discontent he felt in her presence. There was just something about her that plagued him, feelings rather foreign, and disconcerting. But he had not sought to judge her from the start, and he knew he should share that with her for an accord to be formed between them.

"I…have…or rather had…thought rather fondly of you ere your statement."

He turned and stopped his pacing, holding her intense gaze as he did so. "I desire for you to feel comfortable in my homeland and I shall strike this bargain, if you so second it…"

She nodded silently.

"I hereby ask if you will agree to begin our meeting anew."

The cyborg studied the tall Elf before her, strangely wanting to agree to this proposal and not really certain as to why this was so. In another place and time, he would have paid with his life for what was akin to the insubordination he had shown her, though she still was not certain why he had acted in such a manner. Elrohir had meanwhile made his way to the mantel and was now standing with his back toward her, his head bowed against his fist.

Her voice was low and eerily calm, lacking emotion.

"I answered your questions truthfully, Elrohir. You spoke correctly. I was created for such actions. If I knew of this emotion of regret that you spoke of, and if I could feel such, perhaps I would have sentiment at this time. But, I was and am unable to do so. I also cannot take back that which has already transpired. I can only focus upon the here and now. For me, Elrohir, there is no past or future. Only the present. This moment of existence. Such is the nature of my creation."

As she spoke, she rose and moved closer to the Elf.

"I feel nothing for that which has come to pass and have no thought as to that which has yet to occur. It is a physical impossibility for me to do so. As it is, the things that I am currently experiencing are new and previously unknown to me. Thoughts of future events only occur for the planning of battles and sorties, nothing more. The Guardians dealt with such things. I was given direction for specific blocks of time. To do the High One's bidding. Nothing more. It was not my function to feel or act independently of my instructions. Such behavior was and, to a great extent, still is foreign to me."

The Elf had turned to face the woman as she finished speaking, he could sense how close to him she had come and when he looked at her she was standing just an arm's length away.

Astounded, she watched her own arm lift then unexpectedly extended her hand to his forearm as it rested upon the mantle. Touching it lightly, she marveled at her actions not understanding what had prompted her to do so. He was just as surprised by the movement as she was but remained still.

"I have killed without thought. I have destroyed without feeling. I am what I was designed for Elrohir, and nothing will change this fact. However, I am willing to allow our meeting to be renewed, for I do not feel comfortable with this air of..." She paused searching for the correct word to describe the air of apprehension she felt, "...tension between us."

Furrowing her brow, while she spoke, Anariel wondered on this foreign behavior. Why was she so concerned about tension or uneasiness between herself and this being? Tension? Uneasiness? Now she was not fully in control of her own speech it seemed. Elrohir, seeing her confusion and blank stare, reached out and curled his fingers about her chin and tilted it up to gaze at her more fully. She allowed the strange action, but could not hide her bewilderment.

"What troubles you Anariel? Is there naught I can do to ease your concern?"

"I…I cannot be certain, Elrohir, for I do not understand my speech or actions just plied. I am failing." For an instant she reflected inwardly, thinking to herself 'Could it be a malfunction?' When next she spoke, she forced the words out as evenly as she could, "and even perhaps, expiring…"

She stepped away from the Elf and returned to the chaise, where she ran a battery of self-diagnostics upon her system. She took note that there were now several strange substances present in her nutrient stream which she was able to identify as hormonal in nature. Such functions were deactivated in her making. Though they were present in extremely low concentrations, the chemicals affected her nonetheless. Thankfully, she would be able to control them now that she knew of their presence. At least she still had some semblance of control over herself and her actions. 

Elrohir followed her to the chaise, a look of genuine concern upon his face. "What is it, Anariel?"

She looked up and said simply, "Hormones."

He arched a brow quizzically. Rolling her eyes, something she found her self doing more of strangely enough, and retorted, "Never mind. It shall only confuse matters further. Suffice to say that I have found the origins responsible for part of my flawed behavior, and now know the remedial measures necessary to rectify the problem."

"Ah." The Elf obviously hadn't a clue as to what all this was about but, if she was feeling better because of these…hormones….she spoke of, so be it.

"We have a bargain then?" asked Elrohir, extending his hand in friendship.

"We have a bargain," she replied.

"Very well…"

Elrohir stood and bowed dramatically saying, "I am Elrohir Elrondion. Welcome to my homeland." He extended his hand and she placed hers in his. When he drew her palm up, and placed his lips softly atop her fingers she watched in contemplation, riveted to the action. She held still while he placed a kiss there.

"I am 3170, now known as Anariel," she said simply, bowing her head slightly. Observation had taught her some of the physical mannerisms of these people, and instinct dictated that she adapt to the new environment.

"A pleasure, m'lady. Would you care to accompany me for an early eve's cordial in the company of my brother and lord?"

She smirked absently. "I would…" she tilted her head, recounting the phrases she had heard Caladwen and the others use, "…be delighted…." She finished and they both snickered slightly.

He helped her to her feet and both walked arm-in-arm to the library.

**#  
**  
Elrond, Elladan and Erestor were seated by the mantel, each holding a goblet in their hands, when Elrohir and Anariel entered the library. All three rose as the cyborg made her way to sit on the chaise next to Elladan; Elrohir sat down next to her.

Elrond offered her a draught of wine which she hesitantly accepted, gazing at the beverage quizzically.

Elrohir masked his uneasiness at this action but his father stilled his concerns. "Worry not, Elrohir, for I have spoken to Erestor of our guest's unique habits."

Elrohir visibly relaxed as he looked toward the archivist, who returned his gaze with a small smile. The twin then turned to the woman and whispered something to Anariel, who shook her head slightly in the negative. She replied back just as softly, nodded, and then the Elf touched the stem of her fluted glass and urged her to bring the vessel to her mouth. She placed the rim of the goblet against her lips and sipped but did not swallow. All the while her expression remained blank and passive. Closing her eyes momentarily, she worked the liquid back into her throat and silently swallowed the small mouthful of spirits.

When she didn't open her eyes immediately, Elrohir asked in a concerned tone, "Was it difficult, m'lady?"

Slowly her golden orbs opened and focused steadily upon the Eldar. "It was…unusual and…yes…difficult," she whispered back, placing the goblet on the table and leaning back against the chaise's cushions. Great warmth spread within her inner core; a feeling that was oddly pleasant. Though this strange liquid was not the usual fare she was used to consuming in this way, it had a light flavor to it.

Taste was something she was not accustomed to at all. Truly, she had no concept of it until today, when during their repast in their dining hall she was forced to consume that horrid substance. This fluid, wine Elrond had named it, however, was something she could get used to. Her mind wandered to the thought of what affect it would have upon her system, and she immediately set up several diagnostic procedures to monitor its course through her nutrient stream.

She could not afford for such strange substances to wreak havoc upon her already tainted system. IF worse came to worse, she would simply purge it from her body via a volatile release through her skin. Focusing her attention upon this new Elf, Erestor, she awaited his questioning -which she was certain would occur. He appeared to be very curious, more so than the others.

Though this action only took several seconds to unfold, Elrond and the others watched the drama with slight amusement. Erestor leaned over to Elladan and asked concernedly, "She does not take nourishment as we do, yet, she partakes of our wine. Of what effect might this have upon her, Elladan?"

"Verily, I know not," replied the twin nervously as he set his gaze back upon the woman.

"Are you aright, m'lady?" questioned Elrond as she blinked quickly several times before focusing upon the Elf-lord.

"Yes. Quite." Her implacable tone offered no hint of affectation.

"No ill effects?" Quizzically he regarded her, waiting to see if any symptom of the liquor rose to the fore.

"None that can be ascertained at this time, Elrond. However, I am closely monitoring its course of action at this very instant."

"Very well…" he replied with an arched brow and turned his attention back upon the archivist. The twins traded glances at her statement as well but remained silent.

Erestor took a sip of his wine and placed his glass on the table before them, then returned his gaze to Elrohir and the woman. "It was quite obvious to me that you were not of ordinary makeup, m'lady, and it was not only the uniqueness of your eyes that gave this fact away."

Elrohir looked sharply at the elder Elf and was rewarded with a look of admonishment by the ancient.

"Did you really believe, Elrohir, that her uniqueness could truly be hidden from me?"

The archivist smirked as Elrohir sighed in defeat. Of course he would know. How could he not? He was a master watcher, an observer of the most miniscule who paid extreme attention to details.

"You must have realized, upon your own first encounter with this lady, that her essence is vastly different than any Mortal you have ever met, yes?" asked Erestor rising and coming to stand before Anariel.

He crouched down before her and curled his fingers under her chin, an action which she curiously allowed. These people did this quite often, she noted, as the Elf studied her through soft but probing eyes.

Not waiting for Elrohir's reply Erestor said, "You are quite intriguing, Lady Anariel, and I look forward to speaking with you at length, if you so allow."

Elrohir glanced at his brother, then to his father, silently asking if they were getting the idea that the usually reserved and humble archivist was finding the woman more than intriguing. Their subtle response indicated that indeed, they did. Elrohir cleared his throat and imperceptibly moved a bit closer to the cyborg.

"Erestor, mayhap once Anariel has had the opportunity to learn more about her surroundings and life here in Imladris, you may question her to your heart's content. At this time, I do not think it wise to tax her further. She has had much to come to terms with just in the past few days."

Erestor tilted his head in mild surprise at the younger's words. Elrond and Elladan exchanged surprised glances at Elrohir's extremely rare demonstration of protectiveness for the woman.

"Hmm…. I agree Elrohir," replied Erestor turning toward the woman. "When you deem it appropriate, m'lady?"

Anariel bowed her head slightly as appeared to be customary among this species when answering.

"Good. You can usually find me, here, in the library when not on emissarial missions for Master Elrond." He turned toward the Elf-lord. "I do believe that I have no journeys planned for the next few fortnights?" he questioned.

"There are none requiring your services at this time, my friend," replied Elrond with a small smile as he took up his goblet, draining the last of his wine.

Elladan turned to his brother and voiced in his mind, "Have you reconciled, brother? For you seem lighter of spirit."

Without looking up at his brother Elrohir replied, "Yes we have. Though, I still harbor dislike for her kind, in light of the fact that the child lives. I have pledged to temper such thoughts while in the Lady's company, and to start our introductions anew. She agreed and, at least, she is honest about her sordid past. That much I will grant her."

Elladan smiled inwardly. He too harbored ill feelings toward the woman but he was a bit more open minded than his more rigid twin. He hoped in time that Elrohir's feelings would ebb and he would come to know her for what she would become in her new home, and not so much what she was in her own. Elrond's voice breached the mind speak between the two. 

"Anariel, since you are no longer in need of the healing chambers, I have arranged for more comfortable quarters here in the Homely House. When you are so disposed, Estonniel will take you to your rooms." The Elf-lord gestured to an elleth standing silently in the doorway and she bowed slightly as Elrond introduced her.

Anariel blinked and looked to Elrohir for guidance as to how she was to respond. The Elf was getting used to the Mortal being bereft of social graces but, the poor extent of her knowledge in such things was bewildering to him. Was her race nothing more than spawn geared for destruction? He rolled his eyes slightly and whispered something in her ear. Anariel nodded and replied," Thank you Master Elrond, it is most kind of you. And of you as well Estonniel."

"M'lady," the elleth replied.

Elrond eyed the two guards that hovered nearly invisibly in the outer hall's shadows, and he subtly motioned for them to take their leave. He was fully convinced that the woman posed no threat and was adapting to her surroundings amazingly well. There were now more than enough individuals in her presence to keep an eye on her, should anything occur. Of what, he could not think of any situation offhand, but it would not do for her to be constantly shadowed and she wasn't so daft that she did not know it. Trust must be built up between them at some point, and he was going to be the first to attempt such. A good will gesture, so to speak.

His accurate evaluation of her, as she healed, spoke volumes of the distrust and constant vigilance on her part. She was not one to be taken off guard. It did not fall on blind eyes that she possessed several abilities that were worrisome. He did not want to contemplate what might happen should she ever turn those skills against his people, or upon the other inhabitants of Middle Earth. She would still need to be watched.

He thought a bit more. She would also need to be kept shrouded from those of darkness as well. Envisioning this woman as a potent weapon if she happened into the wrong hands sent a chill through him, and he knew his intuition was correct at that assumption. There was much more to this being than what she showed them. Oh yes. She would definitely need close and imperceptible scrutiny. And Elrohir was beginning to show such musings. Elrond smiled as he looked after the departing warriors and then to the woman.

Her perception of her surroundings was as sharp as or sharper than the Elves and he studied the woman closely, upon the guards being dismissed. As he expected, Anariel snapped her gaze quickly to the open doorway. Elrond observed her actions silently and smirked. Even his sons did not take note of the guards' unobtrusive disappearance.

Anariel had immediately felt the life forces of the two beings move swiftly away from the outer entry. She looked briefly to Elrond who gazed at her knowingly. This male was sharp. He anticipated nearly her every thought, so it would seem. The word 'cunning' came to mind. She thought to herself that he would have made an excellent Trooper, an Alpha even.

Turning her attention back to the conversation the twins were having, Anariel feigned interest in the banter, but her mind was elsewhere. Ever since the falling out with Elrohir earlier in the day, she had been uncharacteristically thinking about all he had said, and the child. Why did the offspring have a hold on her consciousness? She had no interest in the creature yet its existence and survival pulled at her thoughts.

Images of the last battle ran through her mind like moving pictures. Every detail and nuance of what had transpired that night flashed before her inner visual arrays. She ran the data stream back even further, to the moment that she underwent her last programming and focused upon that instant. Frame by frame, she dissected each sequence, line by line, packet by packet, searching for the flaw that had weakened her. 

Elrond's voice, and those of the twins, floated in and out of her thought process and she even answered them now and again, as her mind worked at a furious pace. None of the elves were even aware of what she was in the midst of. She was articulate and animated in her conversation and actions, as if she were paying the utmost attention to her hosts, yet she was light years away in her mind.

Her last instructional immersion had taken three earth days to complete. Two days longer than the rest of her battalion, due to her being the Alpha commander. The massive information was detailed in the complexity of the attack strategy, and it held an additional incorporation of satellite and battle ship guidance systems that were to be brought into play by her commands.

She ran through this process at least a dozen times, each occasion finding no errors in the data code. Repeating the cycle again, she focused upon her physical surroundings that day. Pulling her mind from the data stream passing though her memory, Anariel forced her mind's eye to take in the programming lab's environment. She took in every detail of the chamber as well as all of its occupants.

One individual stood out prominently in her mind. A female Guardian hovered near the corner. This individual was one who held a mid-level position within their ranks. Anariel had never trusted that human, though she could not formulate a logical reason for her feeling such. It was a gut feeling that she held against her. This Guardian had been quite kind and gentle in her dealings with the cyborg, traits not common amongst the Holy Ones, but tolerated among her peers. As she pondered this fact, her eyes drifted to the massive control panel that many other Controllers were hovering before.

Her entire battalion, along with four others, were undergoing like programming at the same time. The operation was a massive undertaking, requiring the skills of many of the Holy Ones. It was there that she found what she thought to be the flaw proving to be her downfall.

Silently and without attracting attention from her peers, the female in question moved swiftly to the data library array and briefly placed her hand against the main biometric panel that was embedded within the supercomputer's framework. This scan would give the Guardian full access to all of the Alpha cyborg commanders currently undergoing the programming procedure.

The Guardian glanced briefly at 3170 and smiled then, just as quickly, removed her hand and went about her tasks, none being the wiser to her actions. 3170 glared at the human smiling warmly as she approached her chamber. 

The cyborg followed the woman's every movement and saw the Guardian place something into the nutrient slot of her chamber, and then each of the chambers that were occupied by an Alpha commander. It was something that she could not make out from the angle at which she peered down at the human.  
The Guardian should not be doing this! Her mind screamed. Though fully conscious, and highly aware of her surroundings, 3170 could not voice a warning to the other Commanders present, because the stasis she was in prevented the functionality of her higher systems.

Helpless, all she could do was observe in an enraged comatose silence. She mentally made a note to warn the others to this fifth column traitor as soon as her faculties were within her control. However, 3170 was soon to discover that this female was extremely sly and cunning, if not highly intelligent.

3170 knew that once the programming was complete, all units would be brought down and rebooted. During this time, the Guardian was charged with the final preparations of readying the cyborgs for battle. She had ultimate control over each of the units, and 3170 was the Prime Alpha, the one controlling the battlefield strategies from both the air and ground.

As she felt the sequencing process end, 3170 had wanted to scream out her warning through a burst of binary code, alerting all the others within her mainframe. But the furtive female made certain that the alpha commander was the first in the battalion to be shut down. Which stifled the alarming message before 3170 could transmit it.

"You shall be our savior, cyborg…" cooed the woman, only for the warrior to hear, as her fingers brushed lightly over the control panel that sustained the cyborg's life.

3170 felt herself slipping into a calming stasis, her mind ceasing to function, and her body relaxing. And then there was nothing.

Anariel snapped her consciousness fully back into the present. She gazed at the twins and Erestor who were now in conversation with Elrond.

Silently observing the woman, Elrond knew that she was engrossed in thought, though he noted that she was able to focus upon the conversations taking place around her. She possesses a marvelous mind, he reflected to himself as he noted the subtle twitch of the mortal's head when she returned to the present.

Anariel prepared to run a highly sophisticated set of diagnostic sequences to test the theory that she had just developed during her cerebral journey. Adjusting the heuristics to probe at the cellular, intra-cellular and sub-cellular levels she searched for errant chemical and biochemical substances. Focusing on locating anomalies within the core of her essence, the very primordial pool of her biological and robotic genetic coding, she set the timing of this new battery of exams to commence when she put herself into a state of bioelectrical suspension later in evening. Her internal clock began the countdown as she replied to a question Elrohir had asked of her.

Satisfied that she would have the answers she sought by morning, she rose and made to take her leave. The elves rose with her and Elrond called to Estonniel to escort her to her new quarters. Before leaving, Elrohir questioned how she fared. The lift of his brows, and scrutinizing stare indicated he was less than satisfied with her answer.

"If you require anything, m'lady, please let Estonniel know of your needs. They shall be met as best as we are able," voiced Elrond lightly with a slight bow of his head.

"Thank you, Elrond. I shall be in need of naught this evening." She met Elrohir's gaze and he returned the gesture with a slightly reassuring smile, before turning back to the chaise and his cordial.

The elleth led the cyborg down a richly embellished hall, the walls carpeted with hanging tapestries depicting the history of Middle Earth as noted by the Eldar. Great fields of battle and beasts, men and elves, were woven into the ornate wall hangings. Anariel gazed at all in wonder and recorded each and every artifact in her memory.

Much could be learned of this culture from these rudimentary works of artistic design, and she wanted to know all there was to know and understand about the race that had taken her in. Estonniel glided silently beside the woman, stealing a glance now and then at the stranger by her side. She grinned proudly as she watched the mortal gaze over the millennia old ornamentations and furnishings. The elleth was a bit puzzled though to see the bafflement in Anariel's expression; why such commonalities would bewilder a mortal of this land seemed rather odd but she kept silent.

Stopping at the door to Anariel's new living quarters the elleth opened it, bowed her head slightly and said, "I am at your service, m'lady. Whatever you may require you should call for me. I am in the chambers next to yours." She gestured inside the cyborg's rooms as Anariel nodded in response, and then the elleth bid her good night. The cyborg watched the she-elf enter her rooms and then turned to enter her own. They were definitely much more comfortable than the healing halls, not that she required comfort of any sort.

The entry way opened into a sitting room, furnished with several small tables against the nearest walls, a glass-faced wooden cabinet, stocked with various bottles of spirits, several goblets and glasses, two well-upholstered chairs and a grand chaise stretching across the front of a large open window. To the chaise's right were a round stone-topped table and two chairs tucked within a small alcove.

The drapes behind the chaise were fluttering gently in the evening breeze as Anariel made her way to the bed chamber to her right. Here, she found a large four-posted canopied bed, with an ornately carved wooden trunk at its foot. The room held many items she had no use for like the two white marbled-topped bed tables on either side of the bed. She noticed a lowboy with metal fixtures that required the user to pull to gain entry. Another storage option was found in an armoire to the right of the bed. To add to all the cabinets where items were stored the room had comforting appointments for a person to relax in, like an overstuffed arm chair to the left of the room against the wall, and a vanity on the opposite side where a small table, with a looking glass hung on the wall behind it.

Anariel made her way to the dressing table and gazed into the reflecting glass for a few moments. Much time had passed since she had viewed herself in such a way. She tilted her head slightly as she scrutinized her features. Thankfully, all of her outward appearance seemed to be intact and undamaged. Smirking, at that realization, she regarded the reflection and noted she was none the worst for wear, considering the time warping adventure she had recently undertaken.

She furrowed her brow, peering a bit closer in the mirror. Her hair…Something was not quite right with it. She ran her hand through what should have been a closely cropped length, and found that it had grown nearly two inches since her arrival. Her eyes narrowed and she let out a hiss of air from between her teeth.

What she wouldn't give to have the throat of that traitorous Guardian in her hands at this very moment. Automatically her fingers curled inward, and made a tight fist. She would crush the life out of that treacherous worm with the slightest squeeze of her hand. Since the day of her emergence, her hair had always been the same length. She pursed her lips, drawing back from the looking glass. What other surprises were in store for her she could only venture a guess.

Looking about the chamber she decided that this would be the least used room, for she seldom needed sleep as a true mortal did, and it would be the most secluded for her specific needs. There were two glass-paned doors leading out to a balcony, high above the courtyard and entryway to the Homely House. She was high enough to be out of visual scrutiny from the out-of-doors, when she needed to regenerate or conduct repairs upon herself. Satisfied with the veil of privacy that this room provided, Anariel decided that it would be here that she would undergo the latest of her self-diagnoses this evening.

She turned toward the bathing room, located off to the left side of the bed and noted that this room was just as ornate as the others. The furnishings were of richly carved woods and the deep tub was of a lustrous pale green stone. She searched her memory, found the information she required, and scrunched up her face in distaste. This species submerged them selves in the vestibule filled with water…how quaint. Various chunks of glycerin cakes, she deduced were soaps, and obvious bottles of oil lined the back edge of the tub. Shaking her head she thought it ridiculous that these beings used such potent scents to mask their own pheromones.

Numerous towels and cloths were folded near the two steps that led down into the tub's basin. There purpose was obvious and again she regarded the whole process as tedious. She noted that there were no plumbing fixtures or evidence of running water, which stuck an odd note with her. She arched a brow and made a mental note to mention this to Estonniel.

Turning to her left, there was a long vanity running half the length of the wall. There were many drawers within; various hair brushes, combs and ties scattered atop the counter, and several chairs positioned before it. Torches were glowing softly, reflecting off of the polished stone walls behind the head of the massive basin, casting a golden aura throughout the chamber.

She ran her fingers along the cool stone and toyed with the articles spread across the counter. Arching a brow, she mused that, until a few moments ago, she would have had little use for any of these items. She pulled out a chair and sat at the vanity, twirling a hair tie absently between her fingers. Would she be able to truly survive in this primitive world? Yes, she would physically remain functioning but, she was uncertain how one of her kind could survive without the guidance of the Guardians. As far as was known, no cyborg had ever been separated from their kind, or from the Guardians for that matter, and had been known to have survived.

At this point in time, she had felt no ill effects of being separated from her kin for such a prolonged period. Truthfully, she had felt no pull past her initial attempt to make contact with her world several days prior. She sighed. Well, apparently she was once again scoring a first for her race. As a safeguard, she enabled a looping self-monitoring program, to supervise the various levels of systems and sub-systems that would be susceptible to any withdrawal behavior that might develop.

Checking that the monitoring procedure was functioning properly, she rose and made her way to the bed chamber, disrobed, lay upon the bedding and commenced to set the self-diagnostic sequences into motion. As the code began its pre-scan procedures, the cyborg raised her force field and placed herself into a semi-consciences stasis. Gradually, the programming took over and Anariel drifted into a hibernation state, not to emerge until Anor rose the next morning.


	8. Chapter 8

That evening, Elrohir was reading in the Halls of Fire when his brother silently slipped in. Elladan quietly took a seat opposite of his twin, settling against the cushions of an arm chair with a very ancient-looking book. Elrohir looked up briefly from his own reading, acknowledged his sibling and then dropped his eyes back down to his own volume, but not without taking note of the book's inscription that rested in his brother's hands.

"Has it grown so insipid in the fair realm of Imladris, that you must delve into the Battle of the Last Alliance for the thousandth time this millennia?"

Elladan looked up blankly and said, "It is quite enlightening…" He looked down at the open pages then back up at his brother. "'Tis more than I can say about your choice of reading material, brother…"

Elrohir gently closed his book with a muffled thump and looked over at his twin with narrowed eyes. "You have not come here to comment upon my choice of volumes, Elladan. Pray, what is the true purpose of your sojourn?"

Elladan sighed. "The woman. What else?" he voiced in resignation, gently closing his own tome and slightly waving a hand in the air.

"So, the mortal weighs heavily upon your mind as well, eh?

Elladan nodded, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes tightly closed. Looking back up at his brother he said, "I tend to believe she is more of machination than flesh and blood, and Father is attempting to give her the benefit of the doubt. As am I, I confess."

Elrohir remained silent as his brother spoke; his own thoughts of the woman rolling though his mind. He rose and went to a small cabinet, extracting two goblets and a flask of wine. Returning to the center of the room, he poured out a draught, handed it to Elladan and then poured one for himself. Returning to his seat, he placed the bottle upon a small table situated between the both of them and then sank back into the cushions and began sipping his wine.

"Her behavior toward the babe is reprehensible, yet she saved its life. I am at a loss, brother." Elladan sipped deeply of his spirits and shook his head.

"Humph…" was Elrohir's only response as he lifted his own fluted glass to his lips.

Elladan leaned forward over his knees, clasping his hands and studying his brooding sibling for a moment. "At least, brother, allow her contingency to prove herself…"

Elrohir finished his drink and placed his goblet gently on the table, then looked directly into his brother's eyes. "'Tis far more than her behavior toward the babe that I find reprehensible…" he nearly hissed in distaste.

Elladan blinked and leaned back against the chair's cushions, still holding his brother's gaze. "Then you put up a façade, brother, though you spoke of reconciliation…" chastised his twin.

Elrohir looked tensely at a spot on the floor that had become quite interesting all of a sudden. "You hear how she speaks of mortals, of Elf-kind. To her we are subservient, no more significant than a speck of dust; akin to the likes of Orcs!" he spat in anger as he rose and strode to the Hall's hearth. He leaned his forearm against the cool stone mantel and rested his head against it, fist clenched.

Elladan rose and came to stand beside his twin. Placing a hand on Elrohir's shoulder he voiced lowly, "Aye, brother, she has spoken ill of the first and second born in the past, this I will admit. But…" He drew his brother around to face him, yet Elrohir refused to look at him. "Have you not taken note as to how her views have softened as of late? Or…are you troubled by other matters of which you are reluctant to speak?"

Elrohir slowly lifted his head and Elladan drew away his hand from his twin's shoulder. "Has anyone told you that your perceptive abilities are quite…annoying…if not prying?" Elrohir glared menacingly at Elladan as he brushed past him and returned to his seat. He ran his hand through his hair then rubbed it over his face in frustration.

"She vexes me, brother. Wholly and fully. She is the medley of opposites. Eve and morn, light and dark…" He paused then continued in a low voice, "…Evil and good…" He looked up, a beleaguered expression clouding his features. "How, in blessed Arda, can a being exist in such a state of paradox?" He shook his head wearily, rubbing his eyes.

Elladan smiled inwardly. He had seen this coming. It was this very trait that the woman possessed which had captured his brother's curiosity and, dare he think it…his infatuation. He knew his brother's innermost emotions for, he too shared the same feelings, though she did not capture his attention as thoroughly as she did Elrohir's.

His brother was grasping at straws, fighting an inner demon, trying to justify all the reasons why he should not come to care for her. Though it was quite obvious that Elrohir was somewhat enraptured by the creature.

"From her countenance, she appears to carry such a cataract of personality and strength quite well, brother. For all intents and purpose, it is her way of being. It is her makeup, from what I am able to ascertain. You cannot fault her for that which gives her life, Elrohir. She did not, after all, bring herself into this world as she is, any more than we sprang from stone."

Elrohir looked up admonishingly. "Please, spare me the lecture, dear brother. She is a curse upon this House. A pox. The sooner she is let on her way the better Imladris shall fare." He rose growling, "Should she with the Orcs dwell!"

Elladan gracefully stepped from the path of his harried sibling, as he hurried past, allowing the last few lines of conversation to die without comment. Though his parting words were scathing, Elladan knew that Elrohir did not truly mean what he said. They were not from his heart, rather, more so from his hot head. His eyes glittered as they followed his swiftly striding brother down the torch-lit hall and around a bend. "Your heart has been touched little brother. Revel in its joy…" he called lowly after him, as he made his own way from the Halls of Fire to his chambers.

Anariel was locked in a struggle of her own. The data sequence was coming under attack from an unexpected foe. Her own genetics. Whatever the Guardian had introduced into her system, it was fighting mightily against the programming the cyborg set to seek it out.

Though in deep stasis, from the depths of her powerful mind, Anariel was well aware of what was taking place, and was able to adapt her diagnostic programming to counter the biogenetic sequences that streamed forth from the alien script; hell bent on shutting down her apparently anticipated probing.

If there were any present to behold her as she underwent this silent battle, they would be shocked and horrified to watch, as her body trembled and twisted in what seemed to be painful spasms, while she fought to reveal the ill that had been done her.

For hours, this inner battle ensued deep within her core. Powerful tendrils of science and nature swirled in a deadly dance, each vying for control of the cyborg's very existence. Their effects and the struggle's outcome could very well terminate the creature in the process. Anariel had known the risks of conducting such an experiment, such as it was.

Even with her infinite intelligence, powerful mathematical cognascence and boundless logic, even with these powerful abilities, she herself could not be certain of the outcome, as she did not have precise knowledge of what it was that was causing her to malfunction. She did something intrinsically human, when one stopped to think about it. She took a gamble, pure and simple.

Slowly, painfully slowly, Anariel's tenacious data worms drove the Guardian's genetic sequencing into submission as, one by one, its protective bio-robotic genetic coding sequences were broken. The hellatious process that she had set into motion invaded every cell of her being, right down to her mitochondrial DNA. It was here, at the foreign intruder's core, that Anariel's answers were laid bare before her.

The Guardian had inoculated her with the genetic keys to unlock genes that were meant to remain perpetually dormant. Science had long ago found that even though these specific genes could be turned off prior to emergence without harm, they could not be eradicated from the body without dire consequences to the life form in question. The last thing the Guardians wanted were renegade, uncontrollable monsters, wreaking havoc and chaos throughout a world that they were trying relentlessly to bring under their domain, with their creations's unwavering assistance.

Independent thought, emotions, natural biological cycling, these were all hindrances to a cyborg army. Each and every unit needed to be dehumanized, controlled and directed for the maximum efficiency of such a gathering of warriors. The basest biological functions needed to be curbed into non-existence, and replaced with perpetual systems that needed little to no maintenance. The need to conventionally eat or sleep was removed. The ability for self-servicing, healing, repair and regeneration was instilled into the biorobotic and photo-electronic systems and genetics of each cyborg.

Only the Prime Alpha units were allowed some semblance of independent thought, albeit, without any emotional reaction to their environment. This was necessary for those occasions when the unexpected would occur during battle, though these events were rare. These units were specialized in solving excruciatingly difficult problems, and charged with retaining the entire accrued knowledge of the know universe.

To someone on the outside looking in, this practice may have looked to be rather dangerous for the Guardians. After all, they were creating beings of extremely high intelligence and strength, far beyond the capacities of mere mortals, themselves even. However, great care was taken to build safeguards against any one of their creations turning into a fifth column, or a one cyborg army.

Self-destruct mechanisms automatically engaged when a unit began to act erratically, if not in the presence of another cyborg. This mechanism could not be rendered harmless by the ailing cyborg itself. These safeguards went so far as to be instilled upon one's own comrades. A signal was transmitted from the malfunctioning unit to those around it, and it was thereby terminated by one, or more, of its own. So, the Guardians provided for the termination of renegade cyborgs whether in the fold or out of it.

Anariel found the only positive aspect of this invading presence within her. The genetic code, with which the Guardian had inoculated her, had been designed to prevent her own self destruction. Otherwise, she should have been destroyed well after the battle was over, by her own machinations. It did not, however, prevent one of her own from annihilating her, as she malfunctioned in her comrade's presence. She would need to retain this aspect of the foreign code for, without it, she would be obliterated.

As she learned the Guardian's complex coding sequences, she realized that she could not fully turn the offending genes off, but she could, however, control the effects that each had upon her. Although this malady did not sit well in her mind, it was a palatable burden to bear, seeing as to what lengths she had gone, and boundaries she had crossed, to get to the stage that she was now poised upon. As far as she knew, her actions were unprecedented among the bio-robotic world.

Purging her system of the alien protective genetic material, Anariel then concentrated her energy on containing the newly automated genes, forcing them to respond to her commands. With those more reticent to her will, she bound a brute cloaking sequence about it, preventing the errant gene from operating on its own without direct instructions from her own programming.

Anariel's genetic matrix methodically wove its self-repairing sequencing throughout every cell in her body, a tedious, exact process that had to be conducted with the utmost precision. One ill-placed coding sequence and all could be for naught, resulting in a bio-electronic nightmare. The possible negative outcomes of such a disaster included, among other distasteful scenarios, loss of self-control, thereby causing possible harm to those around her and her environment, being controlled by an enemy force, and, last but not least, her ultimate destruction. The battle wore on...

By now, the sun was high into the mid-day hour, and the House of Elrond grew concerned with the woman's absence. Elrond was seated at his desk, going over a mountain of paperwork in his study with Erestor, when the twins entered.

Elrond looked up with a bit of surprise, seeing that his sons were to have been off this morning on a hunting trip that was to last for several days. Erestor looked up briefly, acknowledging their presence, then returned to his task.

"Good morning, my sons. I would have thought you long departed this day," voiced Elrond, gesturing for the twins to approach his desk.

Elladan stepped forward with a slight bow saying, "Good morn, father. Yes, we would have been gone before dawn, however, we have not been graced with the company of Anariel as of yet. She has taken to remaining with us, through the evening and early morning hours as of late. Though, last eve, she retired to her chambers as you well know, and we have seen naught of her since."

Elrohir sat by his brother's side and, before his father could respond he said, "We had thought that she had met you as you broke your fast but…" His voice trailed off as he glanced about the room. "…Twould seem that she has not."

"I have not seen her since she took her leave of us last eve. I shall summon Caladwen to check upon the mortal, if her absence concerns you." Elrond looked to Erestor saying, "My apologies Erestor. I shall need to leave you for a short time."

Erestor straightened saying, "There is naught here that I cannot handle, m'lord." Elrond nodded and made his way from the study, followed by his sons, making their way to the Healing Halls to fetch the healer. They found Caladwen caring for the babe who had just been brought into the nursery by the wet nurse.

"Ah, Caladwen. Will you be available in a few moments?" asked Elrond, coming to her side.

She glanced first at the Elf-lord then to the twins, catching a glimpse of worry in Elrohir's silver-gray eyes. Flitting her eyes back to Elrond she said, "Yes, m'lord…is there something amiss?"

"Naught of dire consequence I should think. I would ask that you go and check upon our mortal guest, for my sons have mentioned that neither has seen her this morn. Nor have I."

"I have not beheld her either, Master Elrond, which I find most unusual. She is always out and about before the dawn. I shall go immediately." She laid the babe in his crib and brushed past the three Ellyn with a slight nod to them, and hurried to Anariel's chambers.

The cyborg was drained, mentally and physically. Over the course of an evening and the better part of a day, she had successfully overcome the forces that threatened to transform her being into a weakened subspecies. Now able to control the emotional pendulum that had temporarily overtaken her disposition, Anariel placed herself into a regenerative state.

The combined biochemical, genetic and micro-robotic war was over. Though she was outwardly unconscious, her mind rested in a high state of awareness. She engaged peripheral monitoring systems that would alert her to intruders and would reinforce her protective field.

As she slipped into her revelry, there was a soft raping upon her door. Anariel sensed at once that it was Caladwen and paid the intrusion no mind. There was nothing that any of her hosts could do to interrupt her stasis so she continued to sink deeper into her suspended state.

Hearing no response, the elleth silently entered the woman's chambers and made her way through the rooms. Finding the mortal prone upon the bed sent a chill up the healer's spine. If it were true that this creature did not sleep, why did she lay before her as if in deep slumber? Or, Valar forbid...She raised a hand to her lips as she thought... Had the being passed in the night?

As these thoughts and others passed through the Elf's mind, she cautiously approached the bedside. She reached out to take the woman's hand in hers but was prevented from getting any closer than a few feet, before she was held back by the now familiar invisible shroud.

Caladwen, bit her lip and dropped her hand to her side in frustration. She studied the woman for a moment, sensing that Anariel was in no immediate danger, but was not certain of what was happening to the mortal. Turning to leave and intent upon calling Master Elrond, she was held from doing so by a firm voice in her mind.

"_Do not worry Caladwen. I am well."_

Caladwen turned to gaze at the woman. Again the voice spoke to her. _"I am in need of rest; that which is required by my kind now and again. Be at peace."_

"_As you wish, m'lady,"_ answered the elleth in kind, and hurried off to tell Elrond of the woman's condition.

Upon sensing the Elf's departure, Anariel again settled her mind into her respite, safe in the knowledge that she could now fully trust these ethereal creatures, even though they were not ready to do the same, as of yet.

Caladwen hurried along the corridors mulling over that which she had witnessed. This creature was strange indeed and anything but mortal. But, she felt that she could trust the woman and had not once felt fear or discomfort in her presence. She hoped that, in time, those of her people would feel the same. She furrowed her brow. Especially Elrohir. She was no fool. She saw the signs even though the stubborn ellon did not. She shook her head. Males.

Entering the dining hall, Caladwen found the three Elf-lords in conversation as they finished a midday meal.

"Caladwen, what news?" asked Elrond, assisting the elleth to a seat. She noted the concern in the two sibling's expressions as she said, "Anariel is well m'lord. She is...resting."

Elrond tilted his head in surprise as the twins blinked and looked at her quizzically. "Resting? Did she not say that her kind does not sleep?" asked Elrohir with a bit of annoyance. Could the woman not even be trusted in telling the truth of her kind? Elladan noted the dour look upon his brother's face but remained silent as Caladwen continued.

"She does not take rest in the fashion you may think, Elrohir. It appears that she…" Caladwen paused, trying to remember the word the cyborg had used and its closest translation in Sindarin. She looked up at the trio saying, "…She is being remade."

She waited for their response. Elrohir answered hesitantly. "Remade? Is she injured?" His voice hinted ever so slightly of urgency as he questioned the elleth.

"It does not appear so, Elrohir. She has told me that her kind undergoes this process now and again and not to be alarmed. She has informed me that she shall be able join us this evening."

All three traded glances satisfied that there was no longer a matter of urgency surrounding the woman, and continued on with their meal.

Shortly before dusk, Anariel rousted from her stupor. Her eyes snapped open and she sat up abruptly. A quick diagnostic scan indicated that all was as close to being back to normal as she was ever going to get. She could accept this fact, as now she was once again in command of herself. Rising, she made her way to the sitting room where she found several new tunics and two long gowns. As she reached down to caress the fabrics there was a soft knock at her door.

Turing toward the entryway, she sensed that one of the twins stood without. As of yet, she was unable to discern their energy forces as they were so alike in all things, but she knew that she would be able to in time. She approached the door, opened it, and found who she correctly assumed was Elrohir standing without.

Elrohir subtly drew his gaze the length of her form assessing her condition. "Good eve, m'lady. You are well?"

Anariel studied the Elf for a moment before answering, stepping aside and gesturing for him to enter. "I am," she replied simply, as she moved to stand before him gaging him with that deeply intense bird-of-prey gaze. Elrohir broke from the gaze and glanced about her quarters.

"You had us a bit concerned this morn," he replied flatly, not looking at her and instead took note of the garments laid upon the bed.

"New additions to your wardrobe, I see…" he motioned to the clothing.

"It would seem."

Elrohir sighed as the conversation stalled. Not that it was much more then uninteresting small talk to begin with. He finally looked squarely at the mortal, her gaze at him never waiving since he had entered her rooms.

"I…" he began.

She waved him off. "There is no need to expound upon that which is greatly obvious, Eldar…" she retorted, placing her hands upon her hips and striking a defiant pose. Elrohir cocked a brow in surprise.

"I am well aware of your feelings toward me, Elrohir…" she nearly purred his name as she raked her gaze coldly down his form, now held in a defensive posture.

"…And, from the little I have gained in knowledge of your kind's disposition, I cannot say that it is surprising."

She turned to take a gown from the bed. "Your dislike comes off of you in waves…" she growled lowly as she inspected the garment's workmanship.

"Please, allow me to explain…"

She dropped the garment back onto the bed and looked up. "This is not necessary. You have spoken of a truce then reveal displeasure in your aura. It is quite clear that you do not know your own mind." Her eyes narrowed. "Further discussion is pointless."

She turned toward the balcony then stopped abruptly. She pivoted to face him questioningly. "What is your purpose for being here?" she asked pointedly.

His reasons for being there were momentarily forgotten until she questioned him. He bowed his head saying quietly,"To make inquiry upon your condition and…" He paused, looking the mortal in the eye. "…I had hoped to escort you to dinner this eve."

"For what purpose? I do not require nourishment."

He hissed in frustration and growled his reply. "I wished to be in your company, woman! A more obstinate female I have never had the displeasure to make the acquaintance of!"

Anariel blinked, her nearly omnipotent mind grinding to a momentary halt. Did these beings have no self control over their own minds? She was confused. He had just about screamed his hatred for her yet wished to be in her company. And here she believed that she was the one malfunctioning. She leveled her fierce golden eyes on the Elf.

"Explain. You despise me yet you wish my retinue. Which is it?"

She stood rigidly, her head tilted slightly, brow arched, and a hand firmly planted upon her hip. Her piercing gaze bored through the Elf-lord to his very core. Valar, how he hated its invasion.

"Neither!...Both!" He hissed glaring at her menacingly. "I do not know!" He threw his hands in the air in resignation as he spun toward the door.

"Neither your behavior nor speech is logical." Anariel's voice was flat and calm as she stood arrogantly with her arms folded across her chest.

"And yours is infuriating!" He barked as he leaned his forehead against the closed door, and then sighed loudly.

In a softened voice filled with defeat, he said, "Forgive me, Anariel. You are correct. I do not know my own mind. At least, I did not until…" He turned and looked up, finding that she had silently drawn closer, still gazing at him, but without the ere present edge.

Anariel gazed passively at the flustered Elf, waiting patiently from him to, at least, complete his thoughts. Dealing with emotional beings was not her forte nor did she ever need to engage in such practices. She stood by stoic and silent, watching the creature before her struggle with something she could not even begin to comprehend.

He took several steps toward her and stopped within an arm's length. Elladan's words had been rolling through his mind since last evening, and he had spent the better part of the night pondering all in the seclusion of his balcony, bathed in starlight. Listening to the stars always seemed to sooth his uneasy heart and mind and gave him a bit of insight as to why he was feeling the way he did about this mortal.

He raised his hand before him, in a gesture he hoped she would understand, saying, "Forgive me, m'lady. I have been unfairly harsh in my dealings with you as of late. Verily I say that I offer you my heartfelt apologies."

His hand hovered before the cyborg and she realized that he meant for her to take it. With a bit of hesitancy she did so and he drew the back of her hand to his lips. "I take oath in saying that you shall bear my anger no longer when in my presence."

She raised a wary brow, having heard these words once before. Elrohir, noting this, hurriedly added, "Of this you have my word." He paused then said urgently and with great sincerity, "Of this I swear."

Still wearing her usual stoic expression, Anariel nodded slowly in acceptance and the Elf drew her hand between the both of his and smiled. He would be true to his word and silently vowed to give her all the time that she required to settle into her new life.

"Though I am well aware of your habits, I would be greatly honored if would you accompany me for the evening…"

She paused, seeming to consider the peace offering. Elrohir waited nervously for her reply, as he was unable to read her expression. Finally she said, "If this is pleasing to you then, yes, I will accompany you."

The Elf breathed a sigh of relief. "It will please me greatly, m'lady," he voiced lowly, kissing her hand once more and placing it upon his arm.

As they made their way to the Dining Hall, Elrohir and Anariel came upon an affectionate couple purely by accident. The Elf swiftly attempted to draw the cyborg back but Anariel was frozen to the spot, finding the scene a point of exceptional interest. The couple was intertwined in a passionate embrace and kiss – oblivious to all else.

Are they engaged in combat of some sort?" asked the woman lowly, eying the couple intently and wondering whether she should intervene. Elrohir snorted softly in laughter but, before he could answer she quipped, "Why do they bite each other?"

That statement fully undid the Eldar who quickly guided Anariel to a more secluded place further up the path. When he was certain that they were out of the amorous couple's earshot, Elrohir could contain himself no longer. Bursting into laughter, he leaned against a tree to support himself. Anariel was staring at him flatly, clearly in the dark as to what was so humorous.

Regaining his composure somewhat, Elrohir took Anariel's hand in his and patted it gently.

"M'lady, they were neither engaged in combat nor biting one another. Valar, no!" he snickered.

The cyborg merely raised a brow and continued to silently gaze questioningly at the Elf. Drawing in a deep breath, she gathered herself to her full height saying, "What then were they engaged in, if not battle?"

"A kiss, Anariel. It is known as kissing."

She cocked her head, crossing her arms, and gazing at him through narrowed eyes. "I do not know this word. Explain."

Elrohir was taken aback. Explain kissing? His eyes widened in disbelief, as he struggled to find the words describing the most common show of affection known. He lowered his gaze a moment, cleared his throat and then reached out his hands to her.

She glared at him warily, but he only chuckled saying, "Come Anariel. I will not bite. This I promise." She hesitantly moved closer to him.

"A kiss is how one being shows affection for another. Between a male and a female." He drew her closer as he spoke.

"For what purpose is this done?"

Elrohir froze totally bewildered, fingers entwined with both of Anariel's hands. Never had he thought that he would be explaining the facts of life to a grown adult. Elf or otherwise. He looked at her matter-of-fact.

"For what purpose? Anariel, you do not know? You have never…?"

Anariel responded with a sharp shake of her head. "No. Explain please."

"Elbereth…" he muttered as he slid down the trunk of the tree, drawing the woman with him. She dropped to the ground lightly and sat patiently awaiting his answer, unblinking and a blank look upon her face.

How to begin? He sighed. He turned to her saying, "A kiss, given as we have just witnessed, is a touch of the lips to another's as a show of affection, or love, for that person."

Anariel remained silent, eyes fixed steadily ahead. Elrohir knew that she was struggling to understand this apparently new concept.

She snapped her eyes back to his gaze. "For what purpose does one show this act of affection? This concept itself is foreign to me. Again, explain."

The Elf was now absolutely dumbfounded at this point, but bravely forged ahead nonetheless.

"Affection is a tender feeling one has toward another, a fondness if you will." As he said these words, the developing relationship between the Mortal and babe came to mind.

"Similar in kind to what you feel toward the child."

She blinked then threw him a scathing glare. "How would you know my thoughts regarding the neonate?"

Elrohir chuckled. "It is quite obvious, now that I have allowed the anger to pass from my heart, that you have a fondness for the babe, m'lady. Though…" He paused carefully gaging what her reaction might be. "…You, yourself do not see it as yet."

She grunted lowly. "I do not…kiss…the youngling. I do not understand."

The Elf let out a short breath of frustration. "The way you feel toward the child is called 'affection'. Kissing between adults in the manner we beheld is an extension of this emotion. Affection can be expressed in many ways."

"Ah. Not only as in biting. I understand now."

No, no, no! 'Tis not biting, Anariel!" he replied a bit heatedly, his voice edged in frustration and a tad of amusement. "Valar…" he muttered, taking her hands.

"Anariel. Allow me to demonstrate. I believe this will satisfy your questioning, for I am at a loss to verbally explain any better than I have."

She straightened. "Yes, please. Illustrate this action." Elrohir closed his eyes in relief. So would end this uncomfortable conversation.

"It is done in this manner…" He drew her closer to him, slanting his lips over hers, but her head was held straight and rigidly. Elrohir rolled his eyes and gently tilted her chin likewise, saying softly, "Like this Anariel," holding her face in his hands – "Ah," was her only reply, as he positioned her accordingly. Elrohir slowly descended upon the woman's lips – lightly brushing across them initially.

A sudden shock bolted through to Anariel's toes as the Elf touched her lips. She instinctively stiffened and tried to pull away, but Elrohir held her firmly.

"Do not fear young one," he murmured, deepening the kiss without fully intended to.

Anariel was overwhelmed with, well, what she had no idea. Unable to grasp what was occurring, she allowed the action to continue, trusting in him and genuinely curious as to where it would lead. She relaxed somewhat as he drew one arm around her shoulder and another about her waist. Surprisingly, and without her permission, her body responded, pressing against his chest, her eyes slipping closed. _Damn genetics!_ Her mind screamed, as she was drawn into this totally foreign act.

Elrohir found himself far deeper into this supposed innocent lesson than he had intended. Something long in slumber was awakened within, and he was not wholly certain that he liked it very much. He ended the kiss gently, and with surprising reluctance on his part.

They both parted and slowly leaned away in bewilderment and shock. Anariel blinked several times, her mind reeling and her body going through self-diagnostics, checking that she had not been injured. It had never been exposed to such rigors and was unfamiliar with the elevated heart rate and rapid breathing. Her body was reading these signs as shock, for the adrenaline was rushing through her veins as if she were readying for battle.

Elrohir absently caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers mumbling, "Forgive me Anariel. I beg you, for I did not intend for such to transpire…"

Regaining her usual impassive demeanor and stoic glare, Anariel cocked her head saying, "I believe this demonstration was…successful. Your explanation was fully understood." She abruptly stood, looking down upon the flustered Elf inquisitively.

"…And this process…It is necessary to show another fondness? Huh…The expenditure of energy is not logical, and still its purpose eludes me."

Elrohir's eyes widened and rolled as he got to his feet, taking a deep breath. "Still not clear…Eru…" he muttered, it being quite obvious to him what the effects of their actions had had upon his person.

Seemingly not affected in the least by their encounter, she continued, "Is this the extent of the exercise? The touching of lips?"

Elrohir gawked at her. "No. Not by any stretch of your wildest imagination, my dear. 'Tis merely a precursor to…" he ran a hand through his raven locks in frustration and a bit of embarrassment. "…Much deeper and more intimate…affections…"

This statement peaked the cyborg's curiosity. She laid a hand upon his arm preventing him from leading them to their initial destination.

"Explain."

Elrohir stifled a cough into his hand. "Forgive me Anariel for saying not at this time. Sweet Elbereth, definitely not at this time…" He grasped her hand firmly and gently tugged upon the bewildered woman gazing at the Elf questioningly.

**ooOoo**

Though she did not share in the meal, she occupied her time listening to the conversation floating around her, and occasionally added to the chatter. Much could be learned from these creatures if one only listened.

Elrohir observed the woman when he thought she was not paying attention. He still did not realize that she was always attentive to her surroundings, no matter what activity she was engaged in. He also was still not aware that she could concentrate on numerous conversations and activities at one time, and react to any one of them if she so chose. When left to herself, the cyborg watched and listened, seeming to absorb everything around her like a sponge.

He took note that she was rigid and inanimate as she sat at the table, hardly moving a muscle even when engaged in conversation. There was not a wasted movement in her countenance and, when there was, it was purposeful and pointed. She never glanced in his direction even once, or so he thought, and he was beginning to feel as though he was a piece of the place setting after awhile.

Once the table had been cleared and the last goblet of wine drunk, Elrohir motioned to Anariel that they should take their leave, as he had something he wished to show her before darkness descended.

Elrohir escorted Anariel to the private gardens of Master Elrond. She had been outside only once before in the company of guards and had not seen this part of the Homely House's grounds. They strolled silently for awhile, Anariel taking in the scenery and plant life, stopping now and again to take note of a plant or shrub. Such greenery was astounding and unfamiliar to the cyborg and she would ask Elrohir what each was, and if all of his world was covered in green and growing things. The Elf patiently answered the plethora of questions that came at him like machine gun fire, until he had been tapped dry of his immediate knowledge.

As she began to ask yet another question, he raised his hand gesturing to be still. Seeing her questioning expression, Elrohir snickered and tightened his grip slightly about her hand that lay upon his arm.

"I know just the person who can answer nearly every question you may have of this place, and Arda itself, Anariel."

She narrowed her eyes, now glimmering in the pale light of the moon, akin to Elrohir's. "In the morn I shall take you to Erestor, as he is the most learned Elf in all of Imladris."

"I shall trust your judgment," she voiced as they continued walking. As they rounded a slight bend in the path, they came upon Caladwen sitting on a bench with the child in her lap, speaking with Estonniel. As the elf and mortal approached, both ellith turned in their direction. Anariel froze in mid-step upon seeing the infant, causing Elrohir to unintentionally draw back, albeit somewhat painfully, as she was holding his arm firmly and had jerked his elbow roughly.

Wincing and giving the woman an annoyed glance, he tugged his arm from the cyborg's steel grip and massaged his aching joint. Seeing that she had unintentionally caused the Elf discomfort, she whispered, "Forgive me, Elrohir," and then turned her now frigid glare back to the two ellith.

Caladwen passed the child to Estonniel and then rose to greet the two. "Greetings m'lady, m'lord."

"Greetings Caladwen. I trust we do not interrupt your conversation?"

"Oh no! Not in the least. Please, come join us if you will," she voiced happily to the Elf, as she observed the cyborg's less than pleased demeanor upon being asked such.

Elrohir glanced in amusement at the woman who had gone as still as a stone column, her eyes glued upon the child in the handmaiden's arms. He placed his hand at the small of her back and urged her forward saying, "We would be delighted to join you, would we not, Anariel?"

The cyborg threw him the most scathing of glares that he had yet received from the woman, and he bristled inwardly. Highly skilled in the art of diplomacy, when such an occasion arose, and seeing that she had been placed in a rather uncomfortable position, she knew that it could be a rather disastrous encounter if she did not curb her thoughts and tongue. She nodded reluctantly through the anger that flashed beneath her gaze, and allowed Elrohir to lead her to the bench that the two Ellith now sat upon.

Elrohir led her to be seated beside Estonniel, who held the babe, and Anariel allowed a generous space between them.

"Do you wish to hold the youngling, m'lady?" asked Estonniel innocently, holding the child out to the Mortal; not yet knowing the situation. Elrohir and Caladwen winced and held their tongues; both curious to see how things would transpire.

Anariel bristled and leveled the same glare upon the maid as she had with Elrohir, causing the poor elleth to shrink back as if burned. She cast a look at Elrohir who shrugged slightly, blinking passively, and then she turned to Caladwen who was stifling a laugh.

Receiving little aid from either of her companions, Anariel again slowly leveled her trademark glare upon the innocent maiden; then proceeded to stun the trio into numbness. She stiffly reached out her arms to the maid and accepted the babe. Estonniel gently placed the child into the cyborg's outstretched arms, but the woman did not retract her arms with the child in them. She merely held the babe out before her.

"Hold him like this, m'lady," Estonniel nearly squeaked, so frightened she was of this strange Mortal. She gently nudged the cyborg's hands toward herself until the babe rested against the Mortal's chest.

What happened next nearly sent the cyborg into a bionic fit and hardware crash. The infant began to root. Anariel dropped her head to her chest, watching in pure horror as the babe began rubbing its cheek against her chest, searching for something to nurse upon. When it found what it sought, the infant grabbed a firm hold with one tiny hand, sending a stream of unintelligible binary curses pouring from the Mortal's lips.

Estonniel jumped into action and was right there to support the child, as the cyborg's grip suddenly released in her shock and surprise. Caladwen nearly burst at the seams, momentarily forgetting that the Mortal had no experience in the least with such human interactions. Elrohir turned to the side, tears in his eyes from laughing so hard. Both laughs caught in the Elves's throats as she angrily turned in their direction.

"What is the meaning of such behavior?! I demand an answer! Promptly!" Anariel was seething, and she tried with all her might to pull herself under control. It appeared that controlling these outbursts was going to take more focus than she initially had thought. Raising a hand to her chest, and glaring at the babe that was now gurgling happily in Estonniel's arms, she hissed through clenched teeth, "Abominable creatures these neonates," as she rubbed the place the child had clutched.

Caladwen, by now, had regained her calm composure and said in a soothing voice,"'Tis a very natural thing for a babe to do, Anariel. He was only doing what comes of nature."

"And what would that be?" grated the woman, still visibly affected by the ordeal and eying the child warily.

"He was attempting to nurse, m'lady."

"Nurse? What is this 'nurse'? Explain!"

As Caladwen explained the process, Elrohir was silently observing the unfolding drama from a distance. He had silently risen and moved a few paces from the women, and was now leaning lazily against a stone abuttment. Elladan, hearing raised voices, had come from the study to investigate, finding his brother chuckling lowly in the shadows.

"What amuses you, brother?" queried Elladan as he glanced to the three women on the bench and then back to his twin.

Snickering, Elrohir tilted his head in the direction of the women and replied, "Anariel has just experienced her first taste of motherhood…"

"Eh? What do you mean?" asked the elder twin, raising a brow and returning his gaze to the women. Estonniel was gesturing close to her breast and Elladan quickly averted his gaze back to his brother.

"Erm…"

"It is as you suspect, Elladan. Estonniel presented the babe to Anariel, and the infant promptly began the process of nursing…"

"Valar…and the child still lives?"

"Thanks be to the efforts of Estonniel…" Elrohir broke into soft snickering once more.

Elladan was quiet for a moment. Suddenly he narrowed his eyes as he gazed at his brother in thought. Drawing closer to his twin he whispered, "What do you not tell me, brother? For I feel that a trap has been set for some strange reason…"

Elrohir glanced down at the stone beneath his feet for a moment then back up to Elladan. No words were needed between the two, once Elladan took note of the mischief dancing within his brother's eyes.

"She shall flay you alive should she come to the same conclusion as I…"

Grinning, Elrohir pushed away from the stone and began to saunter languidly toward the women, saying over his shoulder, "Rest assured, she shall not…"

Elladan shook his head muttering under his breath, "I am gladdened that one of us has such confidence…I shall wish to be privy to that battle should the truth be revealed otherwise…" as he followed behind.

Anariel had calmed somewhat by the time Elrohir and his brother returned to the women's side. The cyborg was still eying the child sharply, as if studying a potential enemy on a battlefield. Her temperament had evened out a bit, and she was now more curious than angry and in conversation with both ellith.

"Will the youngling perform such actions each time I am to possess it?"

Caladwen responded by saying, "'Tis possible, m'lady, as one can never be certain. However, 'tis less of a chance once he has fed prior."

Anariel thought for a moment then said, "I would prefer that it has taken nourishment prior to my interacting with it."

The two ellith exchanged glances, quite willing to see to this simple request, if it meant that the Mortal would be willing to grow closer to the child. Their plan had been successful. Their eyes locked briefly with the two Ellyn as they approached, a silent comment passing between the two women and Elrohir. He had heard the cyborg's request, indicating her willingness to interact with the child in the future.

"Shall we continue our walk, Anariel?" asked Elrohir, extending his hand to the woman. She looked up at the Elf through narrowed eyes, and nodded. Bidding the two ellith and Elladan good eve, she threw one last fleeting glance at the child before rising.

As the two walked away from the trio, Elladan quipped, "You do realize that you both are in dire straits should she find you out, do you not?"

Both giggled and nodded, saying nearly in tandem, "Most assuredly, m'lord!" All three turned and headed back to the Homely House twittering in laughter, Caladwen throwing a last gaze over her shoulder at the departing Elf and Mortal.

Elf and cyborg walked along silently for a long while. Anariel was still pondering the experience with the child and Elrohir was simply enjoying the night air. Throughout the evening, the woman was running checks on her vitals and other systems, keeping tabs on the changes that she had undergone the previous evening as she strolled.

"Do not think that I did not notice that you left me to fend for myself with the females, Elrohir…"

Her voice was muted and even, belaying no trace of emotion whatsoever. Elrohir was slightly startled at the sound of it but did not let on.

"Assuredly, m'lady. I felt the topic of conversation to be most inappropriate for my ears. I left you to your privacy."

Anariel snorted in annoyance, dropping her gaze to the path at her feet as she walked. "Privacy. More so for your observance of my reaction more than not…."

Elrohir feigned innocence and they continued on for a short distance, Anariel allowing him to believe that the topic of their discussion was closed. As they entered the foyer of the Homely House, Anariel gracefully stopped and stood stock still, a slight smirk gracing her thinned lips.

"Anariel? Are you well?" questioned the Elf in concern. He thought that he heard a slight chuckle eminate lowly from the woman's throat but shook it off.

She turned slowly to face the Elf saying, "You should have taken heed of your brother's words…"

Elrohir tilted his head in blatant confusion. Opening his mouth, he immediately shut it when Anariel raised her hand to signal his silence.

Leveling her intense gaze upon the Eldar, and folding her arms defiantly across her chest, she stared down her nose at him admonishingly and voiced lowly, "'She shall flay you alive should she come to the same conclusion as I…"

Pause

"Rest assured, she shall not…"

Pause

"I am gladdened that one of us has such confidence…I shall wish to be privy to that battle should the truth be revealed otherwise…"

Elrohir paled; his eyes widened as his mouth went dry. _Impossible!_ His mind screamed. _She could not have heard from that distance!_

Anariel's eyes squinted to thin slits and the corners of her lips twitched, as she watched the Elf squirm in discomfort and disbelief. Literally reading his thoughts, she replied flatly, "Most assuredly, I am able to do so…"

"Anariel…how…" he began in a pleading tone.

"I am not yet done, son of Elrond…"

Elrohir winced not quite knowing what else to expect, and had not long to wait.

"The females were also part of this entrapment, were they not?"

Elrohir nodded silently, then shaking his head in defeat.

"Let me enlighten you as to their comments as we left them this eve…"

Elrohir squeezed his eyes tightly shut, pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed.

"Your brother's words…'You do realize that you both are in dire straits should she find you out, do you not?'"

She paused, relishing in the Elf's discomposure for a few moments, then continued.

"Their reply…'Most assuredly, m'lord!'"

Elrohir slowly opened his eyes and looked at her guiltily and in raw amazement. He raised his hands in surrender saying in exasperation, "I yield m'lady…I yield…"

As he met her gaze, he could have sworn that there was a twinkle of mirth shining through those golden orbs, but it was quickly squelched and her gaze became her usual stoic glare once more. He opened his mouth to speak but she again interrupted.

"I do not require your apologies or frivolous banter. Suffice to say that I have routed you and your cohorts and the game is over." Her voice was like ice but Elrohir could not discern if she spoke in anger or if it was her usual tone.

"I will say this before departing for the evening…so rest your mind." She softened her gaze as she moved to stand directly before him. She was nearly of his height so could look him in the eye comfortably.

She raised her hand slowly, curling her fingers under his chin, then moved closer to the Elf's ear and breathed in a low voice, a much lower voice than he could believe she was capable of, "I had already made a decision to approach the youngling of my own volition…"

She drew her hand slowly away from his face, saying, "Good evening, Elrohir," and barely caressed his jaw as she did so; mimicking all the actions she had observed the female do to the male that they had come upon on their way to dinner earlier that evening.

In an automated response to her touch, his eyes slid shut for a breath of a moment before they instinctively snapped open, only to find that she was already gliding silently down the stone hall to her rooms, leaving him gaping after her in bewilderment.

24


	9. Chapter 9

Elrohir stood gaping at the woman as she disappeared down the hall, his mind still numbed by the woman's words and actions. Shaking his head and trying to regain some semblance of independent thought, he slowly made his way to his chambers, mulling over this amazing ability of hearing that this Mortal possessed. Did his brother and father know of this? Did Caladwen and Estonniel for that matter?

As he approached his door, Elladan was exiting his own chambers and accosted his younger sibling. He noted the somber demeanor and his brother's slightly slumped shoulders as he neared, clearly not paying attention to his surroundings.

Narrowing his eyes, Elladan asked pointedly, "You have been found out…" It was a statement. Elrohir was slightly startled by his brother's soft voice and snapped his gaze to his twin's.

Leaning against his door, Elrohir sighed, rubbed his eyes, then his temples before speaking. Looking back at his brother he replied, "Yes, brother, I…we…have been found out, amazingly as it may seem."

Elladan was merely studying his brother, a hint of mirth in his gray eyes as he watched his twin struggle to come to grips with how he was so easily undone by the woman. Biting back the urge to say I-told-you-so, he chose another tactic.

"By _we _I am assumingyou mean the lovely ellith and yourself, correct?"

Elrohir nodded slightly, shrugging and looking away for a moment. "How she was able to hearken our discourse…" he looked up at Elladan, letting him know that she had indeed heard theirs, as well as the ellith. "Elladan, I know well of her powers of sight, but…her depth of hearing? 'Tis confounding…"

Elladan merely gazed at him serenely, as if what Elrohir just spoke was common knowledge.

Elrohir expression changed from disbelief to wariness as he narrowed his eyes at his twin. "You knew!" he seethed, as Elladan's serene look broke into a thin smile.

"I did."

"Yet, you left me to hang!"

"I specifically queried you directly as to if you were certain of your secrecy, and that you would not be found out. Your certainty was overwhelming, as I recall."

Elrohir winced at having his words fed back to him. He looked to Elladan, a dour expression gracing his features. "It now appears I was in err, brother…" He ran a hand through his hair, resting it on the back of his neck and rubbed it.

The elder tilted his head in amusement and urged him to continue. "Naught of malice came of her discovery?" He asked carefully.

Elrohir shook his head and his brother blinked in disbelief. "She was not wrath?"

"Not in the least, rather, she was most serene about the entire drama."

"Indeed? I would have thought otherwise."

Elrohir glanced at his closed door then motioned for his brother to move farther down the hall. They walked together in silence for a bit until they came to the study.

As they entered the room, Elrohir broke the silence as they both took seats opposite one another. Reaching for a carafe of wine he said, "It appears, dear brother, that she is not as predictable as we have been led to believe."

Elladan nodded his agreement as he accepted a full glass from his twin. Reclining into the cushions of his chair he voiced, "I was first made aware of the Mortal's power of hearing while she took respite in the Healing Halls. Apparently Caladwen and Father were likewise taken by surprise." He sipped then tilted his goblet at Elrohir finishing, "As were you."

"You might have spoken of such in the garden this eve," quipped Elrohir in annoyance as he downed his drink.

"What? And forfeit the inevitable value of entertainment it would later provide? I think not…"

Elrohir shot an admonishing look at his brother, then began to chuckle. Elladan joined in for a few moments until their mirth died and then his demeanor sobered slightly.

"You warm to her, do you not, tor?"

His sibling remained silent for a few moments, his gaze pondering a small glass vase on the table between them. Looking up he voiced forlornly, "Yes, I do, brother. Valar forgive me, but I do…" He reached for the carafe and poured the last of the wine into his goblet.

"Is this such a bad thing, Ro? To feel love for another? To allow yourself joy of the heart after centuries of heartache?"

"She is Mortal, human. It should not be and yet…"

"And yet what? She is no mere mortal. This you must come to realize." Elladan leaned toward his brother. "She is 300 winters of age, brother. And, if what she speaks is of the truth, she will endure long past this age. Will you forgo possible centuries of happiness for the reasoning that she be not of the Firstborn?"

Elladan studied his brother's reaction closely, sensing that there was more to his reasoning than this excuse not to continue his romantic pursue of the woman.

"Or does a greater unrest settle over your heart?"

Elrohir looked to his brother with a mixed expression of pain and anguish gracing his features. "Yes..." His voice trailed off into silence and Elladan thought better of prodding further. Elrohir would tell him what weighed upon his mind in due time.

"I would suggest that you do not allow this opportunity to slip through your fingers, Elrohir. Whatever weighs heavily upon your mind, do not allow it to mar the arrival of this rare gift." Elrohir gazed silently at his brother, seemingly taking careful note of Elladan's words.

"Mortal or otherwise, the heart knows no barrier to race or one's life's grace. Our own history shows this clearly enough."

Rising, Elladan laid a hand upon his beleaguered brother's shoulder giving it a gentle squeeze and finishing with, "Do not cast off your feelings, Elrohir. The gift of love can be rare for our kind and, when it comes, 'tis best to grasp it firmly. The Valar do not err in such affairs, tor. There is always a purpose in their actions."

Elladan left his brother's side and was nearly to the door when Elrohir finally spoke.

"Many thanks, my brother. I shall seriously consider your words."

Elladan nodded silently in acknowledgment, and then continued on his way. Elrohir looked at the remaining wine in his goblet, absently swirling it as he dropped his gaze to the floor. He knew all too well his true feelings. Draining his glass, he rose and placed the goblet next to the empty bottle and stretched. He did not feel like resting or going to his room, but he headed that way nonetheless.

Entering his chambers and closing the door behind him, he made his way to the balcony that was set off of the bed chamber. Dropping his outer robe upon the bed as he passed it by, he opened the twin doors and walked out onto the stone portico. Moving to the far edge, he leaned his forearms against the railing and gazed over the gardens below that were now bathed in silvery moonlight. He ran his hand through his hair and then passed it over his face. Taking a deep breath, he then gazed absently towards Anariel's rooms and was surprised to see the woman standing on her own balcony, facing away from him.

His gaze locked upon the Mortal as his mind began to mull over what his brother had said earlier in the evening. Elladan had no idea how close to the truth he was regarding his feelings for her. Verily, he disliked these feelings with a vengeance, as they seemed to have bloomed within his soul against his will and from out of thin air.

Elrohir's heart had begun to betray him in earnest the day he had confronted the cyborg in the gardens several days ere, and he had been greatly angered at that fact. Nearly more so than at the woman's confessions to her cold-blooded ways. As a result, he had uncharacteristically lost his temper and composure, taking out his frustration upon the woman.

And that kiss...Valar...It was not supposed to be any more than an innocent demonstration for the benefit of the Mortal's naivety. Elrohir squeezed his eyes tightly closed and grimaced. The encounter had left him feeling anything but innocent, that was for certain. Never had he felt this way for any female, elleth or mortal. As he pondered this quandary, the strange urge to go to her began to suddenly manifest itself in his mind, and he tried with little success to shake it off.

As the Elf-lord struggled with his feelings on the nearby balcony, Anariel was well aware that she was being observed, but in a passive way. She felt that it was most likely Elrohir and that he posed no concern to her. His presence was a slight distraction, as her mind was focusing upon the child and their encounter earlier that day.

No matter the control she had upon her own genetics, the Guardian's damage had been done. The development of emotions and feelings had gained a foot hold but not to the point where she could not keep them subdued. She was resigning herself to the fact that the alpha Elf male was correct. She would never return to the creature that she once was.

At least, not entirely. She would rein in their urges. This she was capable of doing very well. However, the pull of the child upon her was a most difficult emotion to discipline and appeared to be genuine. This bond, this powerful emotion that had planted itself within, had gained a hold upon her being and she was powerless to rid herself of it.

Instead of fighting this feeling, Anariel had decided to work with it. For some reason this task has been put before her. The very fact that she had taken the child from the field of battle was peculiar and unheard of in her long past. And this attraction had occurred well before she had entered this strange world. It appeared that there was something in existence that was not within her power to control.

Clearing her mind of such thoughts, she turned abruptly and gazed straight at Elrohir as he stood upon his balcony, diagonally across the building's face, and caught him totally by surprise. Elrohir, startled, blinked and stood upright keeping his eyes glued to the woman who gazed back rather passively. It was as if she had known he had been observing her all along. And, of course, she had. Her eyes glittered at him in the moonlight causing him further unrest and he promptly broke eye contact by looking to the gardens below.

Anariel stood looking at the Elf with her head slightly tilted and her arms crossed until he broke their gaze, then she dropped her arms to her sides and made her way into her rooms. When Elrohir finally looked back at the woman she had gone. He silently cursed and turned to reenter his own chambers, then stopped as he came to stand in the middle of the bedchamber. He did not even have a direction in mind, nor an idea of what he was to do next. A walk. That always tended to clear his mind. Especially a stroll through his mother's gardens. With that thought, he headed for the courtyard below.

Anariel passed by her own bed chamber and glanced briefly into the looking glass behind the vanity and frowned, sort of. Her hair had grown yet a few more centimeters in the past two days. She hissed and cursed in her native tongue as her fists clenched. Good that that female was a world away from her grasp. She shook her head and continued through the bedchamber into the sitting room, and then crossed to the entryway and through the door. She paused just as she closed the door to her rooms, and took in a breath. Gazing first one way then the other, Anariel decided to head toward the Healing Halls, though she had no idea why. Something was nudging her in the back of her mind to do so and she followed its pull.

As Elrohir made his way down the hallway to the exit into the courtyard, he spied Anariel heading toward the Healing chambers. He drew back into the shadows and waited until she turned into the Hall's entryway, before continuing on his own path. He cautiously made his way to the doorway that Anariel had entered and peered within.

What met his sight stunned him. The woman was leaning over the crib of the youngling and, when she stood erect, the babe was nestled snugly within her arms. "And why have you called out to me, neonate? Of all that have cared for you, and shown their concern, why have you chosen me?" the cyborg whispered, as she drew the child's face up to hers.

Elrohir blinked in disbelief and ran his hand over his eyes, squeezing the bridge of his nose. _Father and Elladan will never in an age believe what I am beholding_, he thought to himself as he continued to gawk at the scene before him. Without looking up, Anariel voiced in a near whisper, "Must you skulk without, Elrohir? Your sneaking is highly annoying."

Elrohir jumped slightly at the sound of her voice and then pushed himself from the outer door jamb, a sheepish look upon his face. "Forgive me, Anariel. It was not my intention to er...pry."

"Nonsense. You were observing my every move since I left my balcony, and you came upon me in the hall."

Elrohir stood mutely, having no reply to her statement. He shifted his weight slightly and stood uncomfortably under the scrutiny of the woman's sharp gaze while she gently rocked the babe in her arms, as she has seen Estonniel do. Seeing the mixture of disbelief and embarrassment crossing his face she said flatly, "You find my actions...unusual."

He nodded and she replied, "As do I..." as she rested her gaze back upon the now sleeping child in her arms.

"What has moved you to such, m'lady, if I may be so bold to query?"

Laying the child back into its bed, Anariel straightened and turned to face the Elf. "Walk with me..." she voiced as Elrohir cocked his head in surprise and moved to her side. They exited the Halls in silence and left the Homely House, heading toward the private gardens as was Elrohir's initial destination. As they made their way through the gate to his mother's sanctuary, Anariel began to speak.

"Although the suckling is of a human subspecies, it has certain abilities not found in those of the same species here in your world." She paused, allowing the Elf to process what she was trying to explain. Satisfied that he was following, she continued.

"Though my kind looks upon the neonate's race as beneath us, they are much more highly evolved than the humans inhabiting Middle-earth. This is purely due to the natural and enhanced processes of nature, combined with our modern sciences ."

She looked to Elrohir saying, "Do you understand my words?"

"Partly. I shall not pretend to fully understand what you speak. I garnered that mortals of your world have progressed past those of the Second born."

"Precisely."

"I do not however, understand what this er...process...has to do with moving you to approach the child as you did."

Anariel paused by a small fountain and passed the fingers of one hand through the falling water as she spoke. "The neonate called to me in my mind, Elrohir, and has been doing so since the moment I took it from its female." She turned and looked at the Elf. "It believes me to be its originator."

Elrohir gaped at the woman eyes widening, his mouth slightly ajar and a bewildered expression upon his face. Anariel curled a finger under his chin and gently closed his mouth, giving him a sly smile as she did so.

"Shocked, are we?" she quipped as she moved to sit on a small marble bench in front of the fountain.

Elrohir swallowed then said, "To say the least. Dumbfounded would be more appropriate..."

"Though I was rather...surprised...that it was possible of your race, Elrond sensed this from the onset..."

"I did not know...he did not speak such..." He gazed softly at the woman. "What made him call to you now, after all this time... and have you respond?"

"I held it this afternoon, Elrohir. It wished my presence this eve, as it appears to have...bound itself to my...essence, if that can even be considered possible. Seeing that I have never been cognoscente of even possessing an...essence."

They both sat in silence for a while, he pondering this amazing turn for the better he now saw in the woman. Anariel stared off into space, or so he thought, as this was common behavior for the mortal. Without warning, she rose suddenly and headed back into the Halls without a word. Elrohir followed her with his eyes for a few seconds then rose and followed. Anariel appeared to hesitate as she looked into the crib as Elrohir came to her side.

Both looked down at the now sleeping babe, Anariel drawing the tiny blanket up to the shoulders of the child. Straightening, the cyborg gazed at Elrohir before whispering, "I must speak with Caladwen and Esstoniel in the morning." She looked at the child one last time. "It is apparent that there is much I must now learn."

Elrohir stared at the woman in surprise. Was she saying that she was taking the child as her own? She was willing to care for the babe?

Anariel snapped her gaze to the Elf and seemed to know his thoughts. In actuality she did, but was not prepared to let that fact be known. Not now, anyway. She drew her lips taunt, the closest to a smile she could muster.

"I shall bid you good eve, Elrohir."

Still pondering what he had witnessed, he hardly heard her speaking. She reached out and lightly touched his arm. He looked up in bewilderment and blinked.

"Forgive me, Anariel, I did not hear what you said..."

"I said, I bid you good eve. We shall speak again on the morrow, yes?"

He nodded and she squeezed his arm slightly, then turned and glided out the door and on to her rooms. Elrohir stared after her then looked down at the child. He brushed a curl of silken hair from the babe's forehead, softly saying, "A great blessing you have received, my child. Great indeed." As he prepared to leave for his own rooms, Caladwen entered and nodded silently to the Elf-lord. He returned the acknowledgment as she sat by the crib, and he exited the chambers. He shook his head and smiled. She would never in a yen believe what had transpired this eve. Chuckling, he continued down the hall and to his rooms.

9


End file.
